<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>My friend lost a bet by bluegreenish</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707380">My friend lost a bet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegreenish/pseuds/bluegreenish'>bluegreenish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Dry Humping, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Louis Tomlinson Has a Crush on Harry Styles, M/M, Non-Famous Louis Tomlinson, Pining, Post-Band, Singer!Harry, Slow Burn, Surprise Kissing, Top Harry, famous!harry, in some parts only though, music industry stuff, that's an actual tag yay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:34:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>74,965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707380</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegreenish/pseuds/bluegreenish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay, listen, you won’t like what I’m about to tell you.”</p><p>“Spit it out.”</p><p>“So you know how Oli and I had a bet going on? The Arsenal vs Man City game?”</p><p>“…Yeah?”</p><p>...</p><p>“He made me put you on the list for Harry Styles,” Stan rushes out. Louis keeps quiet for a second but stops in the middle of the pavement, causing an important looking man in a suit to crash into him and complain loudly. He can’t be bothered in that moment though.<br/> <br/>“You WHAT? Stan!”</p><p> </p><p>or, the one where Louis ends up on the list of potential fake-boyfriends for Harry Styles because Stan really sucks at football bets.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>583</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi everyone!</p><p>I'm back with a second story and it's a fake/pretend relationship AU, yay!<br/>I have to admit, I'm no expert when it comes to the technicalities of fake dating and PR-agencies, so just roll with it. </p><p>This is a work of fiction, I don't own anything but the effort I put into it and I don't mean to offend anyone. </p><p>Enjoy reading! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Okay, listen, you won’t like what I’m about to tell you.”</p><p> </p><p>Louis doesn’t own a car that Stan possibly could’ve crashed, doesn’t have a sister he possibly could’ve banged nor does he have a goldfish he possibly could’ve overfed to death. Still, the options of what stupid thing his childhood friend has done this time are almost endless. <br/>
 </p><p>“Spit it out, Lucas.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you know how Oli and I had a bet going on? The Arsenal vs Man City game?”</p><p><br/>
“…Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well… I was so sure Man City would win and, you know, defend our honour but they just had to go and fuck it up.”</p><p><br/>
Louis fumbles with the heavy reusable grocery bags he’s holding in his left hand, trying to press the traffic light button without banging the carton of eggs in it against the pole. </p><p><br/>
“So Oli won? I’m honestly not surprised, you know he’s like, that one world cup octupus when it comes to predicting footie results. What’s so bad about it?”</p><p><br/>
“He made me put you on the list for Harry Styles,” Stan rushes out. Louis keeps quiet for a second but stops in the middle of the pavement, causing an important looking man in a suit to crash into him and complain loudly. He can’t be bothered in that moment though. <br/>
 </p><p>“You <em>WHAT</em>? Stan!”</p><p><br/>
Before Louis can get into full rant mode, his friend tries to calm him down. </p><p><br/>
“It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise! It’s not like anyone will actually consider you. The name will be on the list until his team decides and then the data will be irrevocably deleted, I swear.”</p><p><br/>
Switching the grocery bag from one hand to the other, Louis tries to balance his phone between his shoulder and cheek, almost dropping it. This is almost up there with crashing Louis’ non-existent car or banging a sister. </p><p><br/>
“First of all, ouch, I’ll have you know I’d make a very fine choice. Secondly, I don’t want my name on that list. I never gave consent for this and I don’t care how funny Oli thinks this is, I want my name off that list, now.”</p><p><br/>
The silence on Stan’s side of the line isn’t necessarily a good sign, if Louis is reading the situation correctly. </p><p>“I can’t do that.”</p><p><br/>
“Why not? You put my name on there, you get it off there. Problem solved.”</p><p><br/>
Stan sighs. Doing something like this probably wouldn’t have ever crossed his mind if it wasn’t for Oli. Stan’s a cheeky lad, but he usually does respect other people’s rights - but he apparently also takes bet debts very seriously. Plus, Oli can be very convincing. They’ve all been there before. </p><p><br/>
“I can’t edit the list like that. It’s a wonder they even granted me access to a case this big, and I can put information in, if like, a client’s team writes me a mail with certain conditions to add in their offer. But the deleting function is blocked.”</p><p><br/>
For both of their sake’s, Louis tries to approach this rationally, but he still feels like his rights were heavily violated. He’ll definitely be having a word with Oli once they’ve got this situation figured out. </p><p><br/>
“I could sue you, are you aware of that?” Louis says.</p><p><br/>
He won’t and they both know it, but Louis still feels the need to point it out. </p><p><br/>
“I’m sorry, okay? I really am.“ He does sound sincere. “But maybe in a few years we’ll look back on it and it’ll be funny story to tell, right? The time I accidentally signed you up to fake-date a celebrity.”</p><p><br/>
Louis scoffs. “You didn’t <em>accidentally</em> do it, though. You were fully conscious when you made that shit decision, or at least I’d hope so because being intoxicated at workplace, don’t think that’s well appreciated either.” </p><p><br/>
“I’m sorry, Lou,” Stan repeats. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”</p><p><br/>
“First and foremost, you could make it up to me by not including me in your stupid footie bets because you’ll lose every time.”</p><p><br/>
“You know how Oli is. Peer pressure.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah,” Louis sighs and puts the bags down to pat his pockets for the key. His parents are out to meet some friends so he can be as loud as he pleases and no one will berate him for letting the front door slam against the wall. He kicks off his shoes and knows better than to leave them in the hallway because his mum will definitely make a fuss about that. While he loves his family wholeheartedly and is very thankful that he was able to save some money by moving back in during his one-year internship at a Doncaster-based non-profit organisation, he can’t wait to move out again. Living on your own, or even with a flat mate, does have its perks. </p><p><br/>
When he makes it to the kitchen he puts Stan on speaker in order to have both hands free.</p><p><br/>
“Can’t you ask your boss to get my name off the list?”</p><p><br/>
“Are you crazy? I’ll have my arse fired before I even finish that sentence! We’re under strict NDAs about anything concerning PR dating clients.” Stan’s voice has gone shrill, seriously frightened upon the prospect of bringing up his actions in front of his boss. </p><p><br/>
Storing away the frozen food in the freezer, Louis slams the door shut harder than necessary. He’ll need a drink after this phone call is over, that’s for sure. </p><p><br/>
“Lou, you still there?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath and grips the counter. “Well, have you considered that <em>maybe</em> there’s a reason why they make you sign NDAs? Because it prevents situations like these! You know Oli snoops around when he’s drunk, you shouldn’t have ever told us about Harry Styles being one of your clients.”</p><p><br/>
“I know, I know, I know! And I’m sorry. You know I’m not allowed to talk about work-related things and I usually don’t. It was just, you’ve been a fan of Harry’s for years now, so I thought it’d be an interesting thing to mention. I never intended for Oli to turn it into a stupid bet.”</p><p><br/>
“Just because I won’t sue you, doesn’t mean your boss won’t. Or worse, Harry’s lawyers.” It’s the worst case and while Louis will help his friend out this time, they’ll still have to consider this outcome. Stupid decisions cause bad consequences. Louis’ learned that the hard way one or two times. </p><p><br/>
Stan whines. To be fair, he probably feels like shit and regrets his decision more than anyone right now. </p><p><br/>
“Louis what have I done,” he cries. “How do I get out of this?”</p><p><br/>
Louis folds the bags and puts them next to the fridge where his mum usually keeps them. It’s not his task to ease Stan’s mind, hell, it should be the other way round. </p><p><br/>
“Well if we can’t make it undone, we’ll just try to deal with it the best we can. If your boss or Harry’s team or whoever else can make your life living hell ask about it, you’ll have to have a bulletproof story prepared. But other than that, we’ll just hope the decision is made quickly and the list will be deleted and then I’ll have you pay for my food for the rest of time.”</p><p><br/>
The noise Stan releases is pure relief. Well, as relieved as he can be in a situation like this. </p><p><br/>
“Thank you, Lou. You’re the best.”</p><p><br/>
“I know.“</p><p> </p><p>When Louis texts instead of calls Oli after being rejected thrice, all he gets as an answer is:</p><p>
  <strong>Chill, you’ve been a groupie for ages, it was just a joke</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Oli thinks it’s funny, of course he does, but it’s not particularly funny for him. Opening another bottle of beer, Louis locks his phone and closes his eyes. Sitting there, on his childhood terrace in a cosy garden chair, he thinks everything through. He knows it’s unrealistic anything will happen. He’d like to play mouse though, when the high horses of the PR agency Stan works for read through the list of possible beards for Harry Styles and find his very meaningless name amongst highly famous celebrities, like probably Sam Smith or whoever is gay and single right now.</p><p><br/>
Which also makes him think about the main point behind this whole escapade: Harry Styles, one of the four One Direction members and currently England’s most sought-after bachelor with characteristically sparkly, extravagent and proud Gucci suits is apparently looking for a <em>boyfriend</em>. As in, a male romantic partner. </p><p><br/>
Good for him, Louis thinks. And good for all the insecure fans out there who are doubting their identity and fearing their environment’s reactions. Maybe it’ll be encouraging step, no matter who he ends up with. And if he’s being really honest - playing Harry Styles’ boyfriend would hardly be a bother. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
In Louis’ circle of friends it’s alwayse been more common to text, either text messages back then when the internet was still a dark, forbidden secret or Whatsapp groupchats ever since. Sure, sometimes they call each other when they’re just checking in on someone who’s taking too long to arrive or to quickly ask what they want on pizza when ordering. </p><p><br/>
But it’s probably not a good sign when Stan calls him again, not even two weeks later. Two calls in a month, that’s extraordinary and Louis already wonders what he’s gotten up to this time. </p><p><br/>
“Hello?” he answers the call. </p><p><br/>
“Louis?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah, who else would be answering my calls? No one wants to talk to you voluntarily, anyways.“</p><p><br/>
Normally Stan would either laugh or fake-whine how mean his comments are or throw a petty comeback in Louis’ direction, but none of that happens. Instead, Stan keeps his voice steady and serious, like he’s talking to a business partner rather than his best mate. </p><p><br/>
“Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”</p><p>Louis falters for a second, seriously worried. This doesn’t sound like Stan is asking if he wants to go for a pint or play some footie with the lads. </p><p><br/>
“Are you okay, Stan?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Please, are you busy tomorrow afternoon or can you come to my office?” his friend repeats without any emotions seeping through. </p><p><br/>
“You want me to come visit you … at work?” Louis inquires as this is a thing that’s never happened before. Neither Oli nor Louis had even bothered to ask when Stan had explained that he’d been pressured to sign all the NDAs existing in the world the first day at the PR agency. Some even before that. </p><p><br/>
“I can’t talk details right now, but my supervisor would like to talk to you. In person, preferably.”</p><p><br/>
At this point Louis is relatively sure Stan is at the office right now and that’s why he keeps talking like that. Where else would he be? He’s the picture-perfect example of a 9-5 job. Plus the work-booty-calls he has to tend to when his boss calls him up on a Friday night at 9pm because some super important client has something super important to discuss. </p><p><br/>
“Is this about what we talked about two weeks ago?” Louis makes sure without giving too much away in case someone’s listening in. Stan’s working at a damn PR agency, it wouldn’t surprise him if people whose task it is to arrange fake-dates would go that extra step too. Maybe he’s a bit paranoid though. </p><p><br/>
“Yes.”</p><p><br/>
“Okay…” Louis says and thinks for a moment. “I can probably be there around five. Not earlier though, I’ve internship until three and then I’ll still need to find a good connection to Manchester.”</p><p><br/>
On the other side, Stan breathes out in relief. “Thank god.”</p><p><br/>
“Is it bad?” </p><p><br/>
They wouldn’t order Louis to come into the agency just to fire Stan, would they? The line stays quiet for a second. </p><p><br/>
“I wouldn’t call it <em>bad</em>, per se,” Stan replies. “More like… surprising? But I really can’t say more.”</p><p><br/>
There’s a few theories flying around Louis’ head what that could mean. The most obvious guess is something that has Louis feeling all weird inside. Would they seriously consider him as a match for Harry Styles? </p><p>No, that can’t be. They surely just want to know how his name ended up on the potentials-list and if he hacked into their system like an obsessive psychopath. He loves his best mate dearly, but he’ll blow his cover before they charge him for something he hasn’t done. </p><p><br/>
“Alright. I’ll be there.”</p><p><br/>
“Thank you, Lou. I’ll text you the address later.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next day Louis steps off the train shortly before five. He does know his way around the most important places in Manchester, having studied there himself before he moved back to Doncaster, but he’s never been in the agency’s area. According to maps it’s only a ten minute walk and he’s not surprised when he finds himself standing in front of a modern, abstract building that’s mainly made out of concrete and too many glass fronts. It could very well be a fancy bank head quarter and the people exiting through the door to start their evening are exactly the kind of people Louis expected to find there. Well, making deals with fake relationships is lucrative apparently. </p><p><br/>
He can’t believe Stan, his childhood best friend who can’t buy light-coloured shoes because they’ll be ruined an hour after purchasing them, ended up here. At least he’s putting his degree in journalism to use though, unlike Louis who is still stuck at a lousy internship because they were the only company of twenty-six who replied to his applications and were willing to take him in for a year. Without compensation, of course. </p><p><br/>
Walking through the spacious foyer, it’s no wonder he feels out of place in his black skinnies and a simple long-sleeved dress shirt, which he’s only wearing because he came straight from his internship. </p><p><br/>
The lift dings and signals its arrival and Louis’ glad he’s the only one to enter. He’s headed for the fourth floor, as he reads on the info table next to the buttons. Fourth floor: AB-PR. </p><p><br/>
The reception lady is already awaiting him and looks slightly judgey because he is a whole six minutes late. He’s only gotten the tiniest insight of this world and he’s already seen enough of it to form a profound opinion. </p><p><br/>
“Louis, hi. Glad you could make it,” Stan suddenly greets him from behind, approaching him with a smile and Louis turns around to face his friend. He’s wearing preppier clothes than he’s ever seen him wear and on any other occasion he’d take the piss out of it. </p><p><br/>
“No problem.”</p><p><br/>
Stan leads him to his office, a small but nice rectengular room not far from the reception, and Louis sort of expected someone else to be present already, but there isn’t. </p><p><br/>
“Didn’t you say your boss wanted to talk to me in person? So where’s he?”</p><p><br/>
Settling into his very expensive looking desk chair that’s probably proven to be highly ergonomic for your back and shit, Stan starts typing away at his PC. </p><p><br/>
“I’m going to call him, he requested a video conference.”</p><p><br/>
Louis’ eyebrows rise and he can’t keep the incredulous expression off his face. </p><p><br/>
“He ordered me to Manchester for a <em>video call</em>? Does he know I’m from Doncaster?”</p><p><br/>
Sheepishly, Stan nods and continues his clicking. Louis doesn’t even want to think about all the secrets hidden on those online platforms. He has no idea how big of a deal AB-PR is globally but he knows that they at least have a London office because Stan went there a few months back. For all he cares, he could be discovering half of Hollywood’s powercouples are a stunt through these PCs. </p><p><br/>
“Had to give your current address too,” Stan mumbles and Louis is ready to prepare a fucking powerpoint on the right of data privacy. Before he can start an argument though, his friend pipes up again and rotates his PC monitor so Louis’ visible too. </p><p><br/>
“Are you ready?”</p><p><br/>
“I guess?” Louis huffs. He shouldn’t feel this nervous, he hasn’t done anything wrong and there’s nothing for him to lose. Still, it’s a strange feeling to see an important looking man in suit pop up on the screen. </p><p><br/>
“Hello Mr Richards, this is Louis Tomlinson,” Stan introduces him and Louis is unsure what to do. He can’t very well just wave at this man, can he? In the end he settles for a respectful nod and a mumbled “Hello.”</p><p><br/>
“Mr Lucas, Mr Tomlinson,” the man replies. He must be in his late fifties, his hair greying at the sides and small wrinkles adorning his eyes. Usually they say wrinkles around your eyes come from smiling a lot, but Louis has a suspicion that this guy probably got them from glaring and frowning too much.</p><p>“I was about to head out, I thought you were not going to call anymore.”</p><p><br/>
Stan’s obviously uncomfortable, so Louis jumps in to support him. “I’m sorry, that’s my fault, the train I took was late.”</p><p><br/>
“Public transportation,” Mr Richards says in a derogatory tone. Both Louis and Stan opt to stay quiet. </p><p><br/>
“I expect you know the reason that prompted me to request this conference, Mr Tomlinson,” he looks straight into the webcam, “your name has popped up in discussions regarding a possible agreement with a client of ours.”</p><p>He pauses for a second and adds, with one eyebrow raised. “How this was possible in the first place will be discusses at another time, Mr Lucas. I hope you are aware this usually is a solid reason to dismiss you summarily.”</p><p><br/>
Louis doesn’t even need to turn his head and look at his friend to know how contrite he looks right now. No matter how this ends, Stan will definitely think about the consequences of his actions in the future more thoroughly. </p><p><br/>
“However, you are lucky my team has taken interest in this possibility. So, Mr Tomlinson, if you are interested as well and willing to discuss how to proceed, we’re inviting you to a personal conversation here in London.”</p><p><br/>
Not having realised he’d been rocking his knee nervously, Louis suddenly stops and stares dumbfoundedly. Did he just mishear that?</p><p><br/>
“Just to get this right – you want me as a PR date for Harry Styles?” The way it comes out is less eloquent than he’d hoped for and the expression on Mr Richards face indicates he thinks similarly. </p><p><br/>
“A decision has not been made by our client’s team as of now but you appear to have made it on the shortlist. But at this point I am unable to provide you with more information, seeing as you have not signed a non-disclosure agreement.”</p><p><br/>
“Wow, that’s a lot to take in,” Louis says honestly and lets his eyes flicker to the shelf on the wall, needing distraction from the unbelievable stuff he’s just been told. </p><p><br/>
“So if I were to agree and meet you in London. What would happen then? I’d need to sign a NDA, obviously, and then?” he questions. It’s his good right to know. If it’s going to be like a job interview, he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t know how PR relationships work behind the curtains but he’s pretty sure it’s weird for both people involved in it. Also, he looks down on the people who join tv shows like the Bachelor, so taking part in a casting for a fake relationship - that would be kind of hypocritical, wouldn’t it?</p><p><br/>
“As I said before, I cannot go into detail here. But we’d discuss what this agreement would look like, including terms and conditions as well as legal and financial technicalities. I can assure you that our team consists of experts of every field required.”</p><p><br/>
It’s all surreal, maybe a dream, Louis is sure. This can’t be happening right now. Just yesterday he was living his average post-graduate life in his hometown and now he might be about to sign a PR contract if Harry Styles’ team deems him boyfriend material? A million and one thoughts are running around his head and he’s not even aware he hasn’t answered yet until Stan nudges him slightly in the side and makes an expectant face. </p><p><br/>
“May I ask how many people are on that shortlist?” It’s a bold question he’s not sure he’s allowed to ask but Louis can’t contain his curiousity. </p><p><br/>
Mr Richards makes a slightly annoyed noise but replies nonetheless. “Four including you, Mr Tomlinson.”</p><p><br/>
Basically he’s up against three other men then. God, it sounds like he’s fighting for a cooking award, not a person. <br/>
He starts to rock his left leg again, his worn-out black vans a stark contrast to the fancy short office carpet. There’s only two pairs of eyes on him but it feels like a hundred more. </p><p><br/>
“When do you need my final decision?”</p><p><br/>
“Right now,” Mr Richards says briefly. </p><p><br/>
Maybe it’s a bit unprofessional, but Louis turns to his best mate. He’s glad Stan is right there next to him, otherwise he’d probably be going crazy with the absurdity of the whole situation. In a quiet voice, he asks for his friend’s opinion. </p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p><br/>
It’s obvious Stan has to refrain from saying the all things he’d like to say due to the virtual presence of his supervisor, but he’s not signaling an urgent “don’t fucking do it!” through their eye contact so that’s something. </p><p><br/>
“It’s your decision. You’re not agreeing to anything yet, so if you’re really interested, maybe listen to it and decide then? But if you don’t want this, please don’t feel pressured, you can just tell us straight-forward and that’s absolutely fine too.”</p><p><br/>
Stan is emphasising that he has a right to decline and Louis imagines he feels guilty as hell for just throwing him into the cold water like that. Thinking over everything said, Louis nods to himself. </p><p><br/>
“I think I’d like to take up your offer and meet you for a personal talk.”</p><p><br/>
“Very well, Mr Tomlinson. Then I’ll be mailing Mr Lucas the necessary details and expect them to be forwarded to you. If you don’t have any further questions, Mr Tomlinson, I’ll see you soon.”</p><p><br/>
Mr Richards isn’t one for long goodbyes and ends the video call shortly after Louis negates having more questions. When the screen goes black and jumps back to Stan’s work wallpaper, everything stops for a second and they just stare at each other blankly without moving. </p><p><br/>
“What the fuck just happend?” Louis is the first to speak up. </p><p>“Well. Welcome to the show business, possible-future Mr Styles?” Stan tries to joke, but Louis doesn’t know how to feel about it. What the fuck has he gotten himself into?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
A good one and a half weeks later, Louis finds himself on the train from Doncaster to London at an ungodly early hour of the morning. Stan had mailed him the details concerning when Louis would be awaited where. It didn’t leave any room for negotiations - if he wanted this, he had to be at the London office at 9am. Louis had almost begged Stan to come along because the thought of sitting through a business meeting with the heads of AB-PR is very much unsettling, but Stan had declined, needing to stay in his office. He hadn’t been too sorry either, but it’s understandable that he doesn't want to meet Mr. Richards personally right now, considering the circumstances. </p><p><br/>
Another uncomfortable thing Louis had to do was call in sick at internship this morning, claiming he’s been sick the whole weekend but that he’ll be in tomorrow again, not wanting to strain the work relationship if he had to lie in the first place. </p><p><br/>
The London office is the Manchester office’s big, rich, Lamborghini-driving brother, with less concrete and only glass fronts, fitting right in with the surrounding buildings. Despite being dressed more appropriately this time, Louis feels at least double as nervous as he enters the lift. </p><p><br/>
Instead of a judgey reception lady he is greeted by a friendly looking male receptionist who’s wearing nicer clothes than Louis probably will at his own wedding, but at least he’s smiling at him, effectively calming his nerves a tad. </p><p><br/>
“If you would please follow me, Mr Tomlinson?” he says and leads Louis to a conference room. A big wooden table sits right in the middle of it, but what’s really catching his attention is the view. They agency’s on a floor higher than Louis has ever been to, except for maybe churches and lookout points when he’s being a stereotypical tourist. Maybe he should’ve googled AB-PR beforehand because this doesn’t look like a small local company. </p><p><br/>
The receptionist stays with him, asks if Louis would like a glass of water, even offers sparkling water, until three man and a woman join them. He recognises Mr Richards almost immeaditely as he’s looking exactly the same, clad in a dark-blue suit and a guarded expression on his face. </p><p>Mr Richards introduces himself as AB-PR’s UK representative and explains that he’s responsible for both the Manchester and London office but closely cooperates with their American offices as well. </p><p><br/>
“You might meet Mr Smith later on, should this contract come about. He leads the American offices,” Mr Richards says and but doesn’t bother to introduce the three other people present in the room. </p><p>“Before we continue discussing known matters, I would like to ask you to sign this non-disclosure agreement. Please read it carefully and ask in case something remains unclear. You can be sure that the consequences of a breach of contract will be enforced.”</p><p><br/>
The threat behind his words is crystal clear and Louis swallows uncomfortably, picking up the paper in front of him with shaky hands and starting to read it. To be honest there are a few wordings he doesn’t understand in depth but he’s too frightened to ask and make a fool out of himself. The main points come across clearly and that’s enough for now. Basically he just needs to remember the quint-essence: don’t breach the contract, don’t talk about anything you’ve heard or talked about today or ever in this matter. </p><p><br/>
When his messy signature is scribbled on all the dotted lines it’s supposed to go on, Mr Richards continues his introduction. One man, Mr Price, and the woman, Mrs Sanchez, turn out to be part of Harry Styles’ personal PR team and are present to get a first-hand impression of him. The third man isn’t introduced and Louis suspects that perhaps he’s a bodyguard or something of the kind, making sure that Louis isn’t going bat-shit crazy around Mr Richards. </p><p><br/>
“As I’ve already mentioned before, you’re one of the shortlisted candidates. Now, we’ve already received the most important information about you, but Mr Price and Mrs Sanchez have a few more questions.”</p><p><br/>
“Sure,” Louis replies with his voice as steady as possible, but on the inside he’s a mess. What could they possibly want to know? And what had Stan already told them?</p><p><br/>
Mrs Sanchez is the first to speak up and she makes a straight-forward but not unkind impression. </p><p><br/>
“Nice to meet you personally, Mr Tomlinson. It seems that you’re meeting all of our’s and Mr Styles’ requirements so far. I’d like to go over the information we’ve received to make sure everything is correct, is that okay?”</p><p><br/>
She shoots a tight-lipped smile his way and waits for Louis’ nod to go on before ruffling around the stack of papers in front of her. </p><p><br/>
“Louis Tomlinson, twenty-four years old, born and currently living in Doncaster, no criminal records, master’s degree in sociology. Correct so far?”</p><p><br/>
“Yes.”</p><p><br/>
“Have you come out as gay to the closest people around you?” she inquires but her voice is a bit softer now that she’s swayed from the hard facts to the more personal ones. </p><p><br/>
“Yes I have, in sixth form.”</p><p><br/>
The interview slash interrogation continues like that, with both Mr Price and Mrs Sanchez occasionally taking notes that Louis can’t decipher from his point of view, until they’re satisfied with the answers. After a short few seconds of silence, Mr Price and Mr Richards take turns explaining the formalities of the contract, in case the final decision turns out to be Louis. </p><p><br/>
“There will be a lawyer present to ensure that the contract optimises the outcome for both parties involved without disadvantages or loopholes,” Mr Richards states. Louis will be asking the lawyer a lot of stupid questions then, because even if he has restrained from asking questions now, he isn’t about to sign his life away to some dodgey, profit-greedy PR agency. </p><p><br/>
They talk money after that and Louis’ eyes grow double their normal size when he reads over the rough estimates of compensation he’d be receiving. </p><p><br/>
“Of course we will pay for all expenses arising, including transportation and accommodation should your presence be required for several days.” </p><p><br/>
That’s actually a point Louis hasn’t thought about before at all - he’ll probably have to travel around to meet Harry wherever he is at that moment. And while that’s an amazing opportunity on one side, it also comes with a lot of risks and restrictions, the most obvious one being his internship. There’s no way in hell his boss will allow him special leave to jet around to world with his popstar boyfriend. </p><p><br/>
Plus, he’ll be famous. Or, well, an equivalent to that. His name would be in the tabloids and online and he wouldn’t ever get his privacy back, not the way it is right now. If he’s been struggling with the idea of Stan giving away his personal data to a PR-agency, that’s most likely nothing compared to what would be awaiting him. He’s no fool, he’s seen what the media does to people. </p><p><br/>
Would that be worth it? Getting to travel around the world a few times and earning good money for the duration of the contract, but never getting his face off the internet again? Being listed in the evergrowing accummulation of exes? Maybe he’d even make it on Harry’s wikipedia. Or maybe he’d get his own, he doesn’t really know how far fans go concerning that. </p><p><br/>
And would all this influence his future life, especially his professional life? Strong yes, if he’s being honest. An ex-media-regular is not what most employers look for in their employees. </p><p><br/>
When all the formal stuff is over, Louis is given the time to speak up and voice whatever he’s thinking. At first he struggles to put it into words and decide what he really wants to ask, but after a sip of water, he just goes for it. </p><p><br/>
“Can I ask why I’ve been shortlisted? Like, what makes me an interesting choice for Harry?”</p><p><br/>
It’s too late when he notices he’s called Harry by his first name instead of Mr Styles, but no one comments on it. Instead he receives a friendly smile and a nod from Mrs Sanchez, indicating that she understands the background of his question. </p><p><br/>
“Well, first of all I’ll have you know it’s a first we’re even considering a private person who isn’t media-trained in the slightest and has no prior experience whatsoever in the field. That’s actually one of the most worrying aspects on our side.”</p><p><br/>
She stops for a second and adjusts the glasses on her nose, something she’s already done a few times during the meeting and a habit that makes her likable and distracts from the strict situation they’re in. </p><p><br/>
“Now you could ask, why would we even consider someone like you then?” She doesn’t mean it in a pejorative way but it does emphasise the point that Louis is probably sticking out like a sore thumb compared to the other candidates. </p><p><br/>
“Well, we have shortlisted you for precisely these reasons. You’re not famous, nobody in the music industry knows you, you do not cause negative connotations when your name is mentioned. It’s important to keep up a good public image and that’s significantly easier with someone who’s image we can still shape.”</p><p><br/>
Louis nods along, seeing her point. It’s a perspective he hadn’t thought about before, that maybe he’s got an actual advantage over the others <em>because</em> he is different. He doesn’t bother to ask who the other candidates are because he’s a hundred percent certain he won’t be given an answer, but from what he’s gathered so far, they’re all at least semi-big names of some sort. </p><p><br/>
“Mr Styles will be coming out to the public in the foreseeable future and it’s important we approach this topic sensibly,” Mr Price, who’s been quiet otherwise, alternating between checking his watch and mustering Louis, adds.</p><p><br/>
“Exactly,” Mrs Sanchez agrees. “I talked to Mr Styles about his ideas on the matter beforehand and he wishes for someone who the media won’t only love because of the picture-perfect image we’d paint around it, someone down-to-earth. From my personal experiences, Mr Styles is a very genuine person and judging from the first impression I’ve gotten from you, I think we’ve made a good decision shortlisting you.”</p><p><br/>
“Thank you,” Louis replies and almost blushes. </p><p><br/>
It’s almost adorable that even someone on Harry’s PR team would have that good of an impression of him, despite it not being necessary nor common to have a friendly connection. In the end, Harry’s management - or whoever else is responsible, Louis isn’t sure - is paying the PR team to maintain Harry’s desired public reputation. And while that might not be much hard work, there are probably a few celebrities out there where it is. </p><p><br/>
But even the kind words can’t wipe out the many doubts and worries flying around in Louis’ head. His parents will probably not be very supportive, both not really into celebrity gossip, nor are they passionate music fans other than the occasional jam of their Pink Floyd CDs in the car. Oli will definitely be voting pro, having a field day that his stupid little bet turned into something this big, claiming he’s providing Louis with incredible opportunities and he should go and live his life. Knowing Stan he’ll probably just say he’ll support him whatever, especially after the whole ordeal is very much his fault. </p><p><br/>
Altogether, it’s a lot to consider and Louis’ never been in a situation like this. Sure, he had to choose what he’d like to study after his A-levels, but that hadn’t been this much of a debate - his grades hadn’t been the very best and he definitely didn’t want to go down the scientific road, so sociology it was after three nights of browsing the University of Manchester’s website. </p><p>But this, this feels like a heavy, life altering decision. Everyone present in the room must’ve caught up on his reserved posture. </p><p><br/>
“I know this is probably pretty unprofessional of me to ask, but I’ve never done this before. What, um, what would you do in my position?” Louis asks, relatively quiet and directed to no one in particular. It’s no surprise when Mrs Sanchez is the first to speak up.</p><p><br/>
“I’m not allowed to pressure you into a decision one way or another, but if you’re asking for my personal judgement: I think you should think this over properly. It surely is a once in a lifetime opportunity and knowing the people you’d be working with personally, I’m sure it could turn into a pleasant experience,” she sighs, “but it does come with a few … downsides, for a lack of better word. Though I’m sure you’ve already contemplated that.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah,” is the only thing Louis has to say to that. Basically she’s telling him it’s his decision and he already knew that before. Mrs Sanchez smiles again, genuinely, and once again pushes her glasses up. </p><p><br/>
“I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>On the train ride back to Doncaster he reviews the day - and still doesn’t know what to do. Later that evening, when he calls Stan and Oli, he gets almost exactly the reactions he had predicted. Oli cheers loudly and fully supports the idea of Louis signing the contract. </p><p>“Even if you sign, doesn’t mean they’ll actually want you,” he points out and he’s not wrong. </p><p><br/>
Stan on the other hand seems more reluctant to jump at it, always having been one to think (most) things through, unlike Oli who lives life and just does what he feels like. Normally Louis admires this trait of Oli’s, but this feels to important to just sign it to avoid the confrontation.</p><p><br/>
It’s not like an exam you just hand in without checking for mistakes because you can’t stand the idea of looking at it another second. No, it’s more like checking your answers so often you don’t even remember how to spell your own name anymore and still believing something’s got to be wrong. </p><p>“Is this really what you want though, Lou? Or is this just a thing that suddenly has become possible and now you want it because you can?” Stan asks. </p><p><br/>
“Like, when you’re not hungry but there’s biscuits right in front of you so you eat them?”</p><p><br/>
“I was thinking more like when you think you have feelings for someone just because they’re interested in you, but sure, yeah, that works too.”</p><p><br/>
Louis groans. “I don’t know. I really, really don’t know. Like rationally? This is crazy. I have no idea how I’d make it work with the internship and I could basically ruin my whole life with this. What am I even going to put on my CV? Didn’t work because I was busy fake-dating a popstar?”</p><p><br/>
“Well, you’d still have the internship, at least for now,” Oli interjects. </p><p><br/>
“Yeah, I guess.”</p><p><br/>
“What do your parents think about all of this?” Stan asks when Louis almost thinks he’s hung up on them. </p><p><br/>
No matter what decision Louis makes, asking his parents for their opinion is out of question. He’s an adult and capable of deciding how he runs his life, but nonetheless, his parents would have his head for signing. Perhaps that spurs him even more to agree to the contract - doing it out of defiance. </p><p><br/>
“Okay,” Stan says when Louis explains that he won’t be consulting his family, “but if you haven’t already told them no at this point, there’s got to be something that intrigues you, innit?”</p><p><br/>
And yes, there are quite a few aspects that Louis is curious about. The money, the travelling, the insight into the industry, getting to spend time with <em>Harry Styles</em>. </p><p><br/>
In the end, it’s a close decision. He tries to consider all perspectives and weigh up pro and contra arguments against each other after having drawn up a detailed list. It takes a while to read through the big ass contract he’d been handed, especially because he only fetches it at night in the safety of his childhood bedroom where he’s sure his parents won’t disturb him. </p><p><br/>
The last day before the deadline he’d been giving, Louis signs the contract and sends Mr Richards a scan of it. </p><p><br/>
Besides the short notification that his document has been received, the agency doesn’t give him any more information. The second he opens that email, Louis curses silently and puts his head in his hand - god, what has he done?</p><p><br/>
Over the course of the next couple days Louis tries to keep control over his own actions and not check his mails obsessively every few minutes in fear of missing a response. He keeps busy during the day, working at the internship, hanging out with his friends, playing footie, actually tidying up his room for once. But at night, he can barely restrain himself from opening google and clicking on every article he can find about Harry Styles. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry and his mysterious tweets - what do they mean?</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>New secret romance? We found pictures of Harry and Jasmine at a cute little café!</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“Treat people with kindness” - Is Harry Styles a role model for all of us?</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No more One Direction with Harry? What former bandmate Liam Payne thinks about a band reunion </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Most headlines are clickbait and don’t contain any valuable information other than groundless assumptions and “close friend’s of Harry’s” hinting at possible romances. It fits right in with the picture Louis has of certain tabloids and he feels sort of sorry for Harry. It can’t be easy having the whole world look at your every move and analyse your every word with the intention of making money off you. </p><p><br/>
After going through recent news and Harry’s considerable Wikipedia, Louis browses for pictures. There’s no denying that Harry has made some bold choices concerning fashion in the past years but to be fair, he can pull it off. No matter if it’s a simple black suit or a sofa cover - it looks good on him and he politely smiles through all the criticism, getting consecutively more proud and self-confident. Louis finds it admirable how much Harry has transformed into who he wants to be and not who the media makes him out to be, and apperently, coming out is next on that list. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
It’s his lunch break at internship about two weeks later and Louis’ shoveling warmed-up packet soup into his mouth at an remarkable velocity when a pop-up notification indicates that he’s got a new email. Almost choking, he puts the spoon down and grabs his phone with already sweaty hands. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Dear Mr Louis Tomlinson, </strong>
</p><p><strong>we hereby notify you that our client’s team has chosen you. Further information concerning signing the final contract will be following.</strong> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The email goes on but Louis can’t focus on anything. </p><p><br/>
Harry’s team chose him as a fake-date for Harry fucking Styles. He’ll be the man at Harry’s side when he gets to come out to the world. What the hell. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Now that he’s got an answer, he doesn’t know how to react. Does he call Stan and Oli? His parents? Does he stay quiet about all of it? There’s so much he’ll have to deal with and work out especially after having signed the contract. </p><p><br/>
He’s asked, or strongly adviced more like, to appear at the London office the day after tomorrow to finalise the contract. Luckily, after some back and forth with his co-workers and lying straight to their faces about having to help a friend, he gets the go to work from home that day, only having to research and put together an info leaflet about the organisation he’s interning at. He’s partly sure they won’t even use half of his ideas and it’s just an assignment to keep him busy and out of their hair, but he’s not complaining. </p><p><br/>
When he’s paying for the train ticket to London and it leaves a hole in his wallet, he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t appreciate the money he’ll be receiving from the agency. He’s not money-grubbing, far from it, but earning your own money, that’s a part of his pride. It’s a way of proving to himself and others that he is useful and capable of caring for himself. </p><p><br/>
Except for the weather, everything is the same as Louis enters the building AB-PR London is based at. He’s wet from the constant rain that’s been accompanying him since crossing Northamptonshire, which was to be expected now that it’s mid November and there won’t be too many sunny days in central south England until next spring - and of course he forgot to bring an umbrella. That must be one of the signs you’re truly a fullgrown adult - remembering to bring an umbrella. Louis’ definitely not there yet. </p><p><br/>
He’s welcomed by the same receptionist as last time and despite not knowing the man at all, Louis’ glad to see a familiar face. Being lead to the same conference room, Louis tries to take in more of his surroundings, viewing the spare framed black and white pictures on the wall, the closed office doors to their left and right. </p><p><br/>
When he enters the conference room, it’s filled with significantly more people than last time. He recognises Mr Richards, Mrs Sanchez, Mr Price and the nameless guy but there are two other man in fancy clothes that he can’t place. None of them is Harry Styles, that much is sure, and Louis doesn’t actually know whether he’ll be present today or not. </p><p><br/>
“Please take a seat, Mr Tomlinson. We’ll be starting soon,“ Mr Richards greets him and points to a chair close to the window front. The two men Louis doesn’t know talk quietly while flipping through some papers and it calms Louis’ nerves a bit. Without noticing it, he starts rocking his leg again and his fingers itch to pull out his phone despite knowing that’d be highly inappropriate in this situation. </p><p><br/>
Just when he’s about to gulp down the whole glass of water the receptionist had poured him, the door to the conference room opens again and three more men enter the room, Harry Styles being one of them. </p><p><br/>
Fucking hell, Louis is in the same room as Harry Styles. How can this be real?</p><p><br/>
Before Louis has a chance to get lost in his fangirling, he scrambles up from his seat to shake one of the men’s hands. </p><p> </p><p>“You must be Louis Tomlinson.”</p><p><br/>
Louis nods shyly and feels his face going red now that the room has gone quiet and all eyes are on him. “That I am.”</p><p><br/>
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jeff Azoff, Mr Styles’ manager,” he introduces himself with a tight but not uncomfortable handshake. Louis mutters something back but his focus is on Harry who’s next in line to shake his hand. </p><p><br/>
“Hi, ’m Louis,” he mumbles and makes sure he doesn’t miss Harry’s hand. Multiple rings press against his fingers when they shake hands, and when Louis directs his eyes up, Harry is looking right at him, smiling slightly. </p><p><br/>
“I’m Harry,” the man replies. He doesn’t add his last name and while that could be because he expects everyone in the room to know it, it might also be because Harry likes being on first-name basis with people. Louis doesn’t know but hopes it’s the latter, because fake-dating someone and having to call them by their last name outside of public would be kind of fucked up. </p><p><br/>
The third new man isn’t introduced further and this time Louis is actually sure he’s Harry’s personal bodyguard. </p><p><br/>
When they’re all settled around the table, the other two men with the countless stacks of papers turn out to be two lawyers who take over the lead after Mr Richards has started the meeting with a forced introdution. </p><p><br/>
Harry is seated opposite and two seats to the left of Louis and stays relatively quiet, only speaking up when he’s explicitly asked to. He smiles in suitable places but overall keeps his face guarded. He’s standard friendly, polite as a lot of fellow celebrities had described him in articles Louis has read, but he’s not beaming at the idea of signing the contract. Understandably, if you ask Louis. </p><p><br/>
“The exact schedules will be worked out by Mr Styles’ team and you will be sent a detailled schedule at least one week in advance. You’ll also receive a rough schedule of upcoming events at least one month in advance,” Mr Price explains and looks at Louis to check whether he is paying attention. Louis just stares back and gives him a curt nod to indicate that he understands. </p><p>“You’ll also be sent the access data to an online calender in which big scheduled events are noted,” he continues. </p><p><br/>
“Needless to say, we trust that none of these information will go public,” Mr Richards chimes in, shooting Louis a look, referencing to the NDA he’s signed and all the unpleasant consequences awaiting him in case of a breach of contract. Louis almost shudders at the prospect of that. </p><p><br/>
“Of course,” Louis agrees. </p><p><br/>
“Schedules include mandatory presence appointments at events like shows, but also pap walks, meetings with Mr Styles’ teams and AB-PR and social media presence,” one of the lawyers summarises a big paragraph of the contract. Louis has the same text laying in front of him, but he doesn’t want to risk missing anything important being said by reading through it now. </p><p><br/>
“You’ll also undergo a briefing on how to behave. It’s very important to be aware of what you’re saying and doing at every point as the media will most likely be very interested in you. We cannot afford to make any mistakes.”</p><p><br/>
Mr Price says <em>we</em>, but what he really means is <em>Louis</em> can’t afford to make any mistakes. Of course he’d have to be shown how to act right, especially in an industry like this. Harry himself is a media-trained mega star and he can’t have his reputation ruined by some clumsy boy who doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. </p><p><br/>
Louis tries to swallow the lump in his throat and hastily grabs his glass of water. He’s taking a big sip when Harry meets his eyes and it could be kind of awkward, but Harry simply smiles. It’s nice, it makes Louis feel like he has an ally in this whole thing of people telling him what he is to do. Harry’s used to this, he guesses. </p><p><br/>
“I have a question,” Louis announces when he’s put down the now empty glass. </p><p><br/>
“Go ahead.”</p><p><br/>
“What exactly will the social media presence contain?”</p><p><br/>
This time, it’s Mrs Sanchez who answers. “So far, we’ve talked about the usage of Instagram and Twitter, as those are the main platforms Mr Styles and the fan base use,” she explains and pushes up the glasses on her nose. Louis almost smiles at the familiar gesture. She’s definitely his favourite of all the people present. Well, expect for Harry maybe. </p><p><br/>
“I do have an Instagram account, but no Twitter.”</p><p><br/>
“That’s no problem, our team will set up a Twitter account as soon as the contract is signed. We reserve the right to remove inappropriate posts and we’ll have a thorough look at the content you’re sharing.”</p><p><br/>
Louis wonders whether Mrs Sanchez or anyone in her position agree with everything they’re demanding in the contracts they’re making. With Mr Price he can imagine, but Mrs Sanchez seems too nice for a job in a celebrity’s PR team. </p><p><br/>
“You are allowed to post personal pictures in moderation, but regular pictures that indicate the closeness to Mr Styles are required as well,” Mr Price takes over. </p><p><br/>
“Do I have to use my personal Instagram that I have right now?” Louis’ careful to phrase it as neutral as possible while also implying that he’d rather not. </p><p><br/>
“That’d be the best solution as it depicts an authentic persona of yours.”</p><p><br/>
It must’ve been visible on Louis’ face that it’s not the answer he’d hoped for, because Harry cracks a sympathethic smile. Louis is rather surprised when the singer speaks up even though the topic discussed doesn’t necessarily affect him. </p><p><br/>
“I think it’s fair to let Mr Tomlinson keep his personal Instagram. He’ll have a life after this agreement and I’d prefer to not impose on that.” Mr Price doesn’t look happy, close to complaining about the lack of authenticity or whatever. </p><p>“If someone questions why Mr Tomlinson has only been posting since we’ve known each other, we’ll use just that as an excuse - that I convinced him to download the apps. Makes a good story, anyways.”</p><p><br/>
Everyone present in the room but Harry and Louis exchanges looks to check what the others think about Harry’s suggestion. </p><p>“I don’t see a problem with that,” Mrs Sanchez concludes eventually. </p><p><br/>
While Louis is relieved that he gets to keep his personal account, he also can’t wrap his head around what just happened. Harry Styles stood up for him against a room full of very important and rich people. Well, Harry is a big deal himself and most people probably don’t want to get on his bad side, but still. He shoots Harry a genuine smile as a thank you when he’s sure he’s looking and gets one in response. </p><p><br/>
They continue to talk about social media and real life presence before they skip to the more technical parts of the contract. </p><p><br/>
“The contract is set up for exactly seven months, starting today, 15th of November and effectively ending 15th of June of the next year. It may not be terminated on your part without good reason,“ one of the lawyers states. </p><p>Seven months is a long time. A lot can happen in seven months. He’ll be wrapping up the internship in June and hopefully be looking for a real job that pays real money. Though money won’t be much of an issue for a while thanks to the contract, Louis figures. </p><p><br/>
It makes sense though, to constitute a long-term relationship. Many fake-relationships are not taken seriously as they’re exposed as “girlfriends for the winter” by fans and the media, Louis has read. Surely they don’t want that for something as big as Harry Styles coming out. </p><p><br/>
“What’s going to be the background story of how we met?” Harry asks and it’s actually a good point Louis hasn’t paid enough thought to. He’ll need to have a bulletproof story of how they met when he’s asked.</p><p> </p><p>Jeff Azoff is the one to answer this question and Louis wonders how much he’s involved in everything and whether Harry is happy with his team. It must feel so weird to have a whole army of people working for or in connection to you and in the end, Louis will just be one of them too. </p><p><br/>
“The cover story is that you’ve been introduced by mutual local friends. It’s quite convenient that you’re both from northern England. After that, you’ve kept in contact.”</p><p><br/>
Harry nods, content with the answer given. In Louis’ opinion, the story is still a little rough around the edges, but they’ll figure out the details later. </p><p><br/>
First, it’s time to actually sign the contract. </p><p><br/>
Louis has signed other important documents in his life. He’s been to university and lived in the halls and he signed the lease contract for the flat he’d lived in during his master’s. He’d also signed his employment contract at ToysRUs and just recently the internship contract. In none of these situation has he ever been this nervous. </p><p><br/>
It’s not actually one big contract he has to sign, no, there’s a myriad of them. For starters, he has to sign three copies of everything - one for AB-PR, one for Harry’s team and one for himself. There’s multiple free spots for everyone involved to sign and Louis barely registers he’s breathing while he’s leading the fancy pen over the paper. </p><p><br/>
When everything’s settled and Mr Price, Mr Azoff and both lawyers are content with the mess of papers in front of them, Louis is handed a contact list. </p><p><br/>
“Welcome to the team, Mr Tomlinson!“ Jeff Azoff says, “these are a few contacts of people you’ll regularly interact with.”</p><p><br/>
Louis scans over the phone numbers, email addresses and names but none of them read Harry’s name. Not that he’s surprised. Sure, the NDA forbids him spreading Harry’s personal phone number but rationally, they don’t know Louis yet. Maybe he’ll have to earn their trust first, or something. </p><p><br/>
After that, the strict meeting atmosphere slowly resolves and everyone gathers their stuff. Louis’ unsure how long he is expected to stay, but Harry alread approaches him before he can continue worrying. </p><p><br/>
“I’m sorry, I have to go now, but I just wanted to say that I think this’ll be a good cooperation,” Harry smiles and Louis can’t help smiling back, because apparently Harry just has that effect on people.<br/>
 </p><p>“Dito,” he replies. </p><p><br/>
“And knowing Jeff and Mr Price, it won’t be long until they get the show rolling.”</p><p>Louis nods, torn between not wanting to steal his time and wanting to talk more to the unfathomable mystery that is popstar Harry Styles but also Harry Styles who made sure Louis would be able to get back to a relatively normal life after this. “Seems like it,” he agrees. </p><p><br/>
“Well then, take care Louis!” Harry says and shakes his hand and then everyone else’s hand goodbye before leaving the room together with Jeff Azoff and the unnamed bodyguard. </p><p><br/>
Louis looks after him as he disappears through the door. The man he’s officially dating as of now. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
After getting tea and a muffin at a little café that’s decidedly no american coffee shop chain, Louis steps on the train to Manchester. He’s an adult and his parents don’t supervise where he’s going, but he still feels like he needs an excuse to be out of the house today. Not that they know he was supposed to work from home. But having the alibi of visiting a friend from uni somehow still feels more valid.</p><p> </p><p>That weekend, Louis is sent the schedule for the rest of November and the online calender via his new email address that he guesses AB-PR will delete as soon as the contract ends. Along with that, he receives his log in data for Twitter and Instagram and he sort of hates that Harry’s team has access to it at all times. As if he isn’t a mature enough to use it responsibly.  </p><p><br/>
While Louis was aware that the People’s Choice Award had taken place recently (mainly because Harry had won Music Video of the Year and Louis had been going through an online … researching spree when winners had been announced), he hadn’t known that the AMAs were about to happen the following weekend. It explains why Harry apparently decided to stay in LA after the People’s Choice Award though. </p><p><br/>
For Louis, it doesn’t change much. His first more or less proper interaction with Harry is set up for the morning after the AMAs and he simply is to post a reaction to however the night goes award-wise. </p><p><br/>
Other than that he is ordered to come to the Manchester office a few times to be taught how to not fuck up things. That’s going to be fun for sure. </p><p><br/>
Sadly, Stan isn’t allowed to be present but Louis is grateful that he doesn’t have to commute to London every time. Instead a friendly Indian looking lady called Mrs Kurup, who is the next highest supervisor under Mr Richards, sets up skype meetings with him and Mr Price. They’re not pleasant but endurable and the main point basically is: don’t talk to paps and don’t talk about Harry unless instructed to. Luckily Louis won’t be properly interviewed like Harry is because in the end, he’s just a boyfriend, no fellow artist. </p><p><br/>
When Louis is done with his appointment on Friday afternoon, Stan is about to head out as well and they spontaneously decide to go out for a drink.</p><p><br/>
They’re sat in a booth of a pub Stan recommended when Louis can’t keep it bottled up anymore despite knowing he’s not supposed to talk about anything. He’s already breaking the rules the first week in, but on the other hand, Stan is employed by the agency so there’s got to apply a special rule, right?</p><p><br/>
“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?“ Louis bursts out. “Or is this fucking crazy?“</p><p><br/>
Stan takes a sip of his pint, puts it down and considers what to say. “I don’t know. It’s a tricky situation.”</p><p><br/>
“Ugh, no shit.”</p><p><br/>
“But it’s all going okay so far, isn’t it? They’re treating you well?” Worry swings in Stan’s voice and Louis appreciates his friend caring so much. </p><p><br/>
“I guess, yeah,” he replies. “Harry followed me on Instagram and Twitter yesterday. Or well, his account did.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah. I’m supposed to post a reaction if he wins an AMA tonight. But I guess his team might take over if I don’t do it when they want it done.”</p><p><br/>
Louis looks down to his pint and touches the little condensation droplets running down his glass. “It feels like they’re patronising me,” he remarks quietly. </p><p><br/>
Sighing sympathetically, Stan shoots him an understanding look. “I guess they do that, yeah. Honestly, I’m so glad I’m more involved in the adminstrative part of it, not so much the executing part of PR.”</p><p><br/>
“And it probably won’t change anytime soon,” Louis says referencing to how he's being treated, not expecting an answer because he knows it’s the truth. </p><p><br/>
They drink their beverages in silence for a while, the music from the speaker above them filling the whole pub with background noises. It’s cosy here. Hopefully he’ll have time and the freedom of choice to keep spending his free time like this despite the contract.</p><p><br/>
“What’s Harry like?” Louis speaks up again after a couple minutes. </p><p><br/>
“I haven’t worked with him before,” his friend admits, “but my colleague has talked to him and I know he was positively surprised. And from what I’ve heard, he is well respected in the industry? A nice lad, you know. Like, the neighbour boy helping out granny with her lawn mowing.”</p><p><br/>
Louis nods. That’s the impression he’d gotten, too. While Harry surely wasn’t happy with the whole solution, he stuck to being polite, not blaming Louis. </p><p><br/>
“Plus, he’s good looking,” Stan adds with a smirk. Louis’ known interest in Harry Styles has partly been the reason why Oli even brought it up in the bet. </p><p><br/>
“If you say so,” Louis replies but can’t help the smile spreading on his face because yeah, Stan isn’t wrong. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Waking up the next morning isn’t as ordinary as Louis expected it to be, his blurry just-woken-up-mind almost forgetting what’s been happening the past night, a few hours ago in LA. Harry had indeed won an AMA in the category Favourite pop/rock song and Louis feels strangely proud of him. </p><p><br/>
But the AMAs being over also means Louis’ activity as Harry’s fake boyfriend would kick into motion and when he opens his newly installed Twitter application, he’s only half surprised to see a tweet has been posted in his name. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Louistml: Proud of you xx @Harry_Styles</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>What does surprise him though is the massive amount of new followers and also replies and even some retweets. It’s nothing special to say and Harry receives loads of tweets like these, but the double kisses kind of stick out enough for fans to question them. Suddenly wide awake, Louis continues scrolling through the reactions on Twitter and afterwards refreshes Instagram as well. </p><p><br/>
It feels so surreal to see what he’d only imagined in his head up to this point. And this is only the beginning. There’s no going back now, even if he wants to. </p><p><br/>
Seeing all the social media presence being simulated definitely is weird, but what really kicks differently is the message Oli sends him when Louis has just gathered the motivation to finally get out of bed. </p><p>
  <strong>Did u see this?</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Right underneath his text message sits a screenshot of some online tabloid that, except for research purposes, Louis would avoid at all cost. Louis’ insides feel all squirmy when he reads through the eye-catching title, written in bold red letters:</p><p><br/>
<span class="u">
    <strong>Harry, do you go in two directions?</strong>
  </span><br/>
<em>What’s going on with our favourite popstar Harry Styles? The former member of world-renowned boyband One Direction is currently in his final steps before releasing the second album of his career in March next year and we’re all incredibly excited to finally hear it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But aside from his musical career, does the singer (22) who just yesterday won his fourth AMA, show interest in more than one direction? According to two independent sources, Harry has been repeatedly flirting with an unknown man from the Manchester region. We all know Harry is a charmer and no one stays unaffected - but is this what he aims for? </em><br/>
<em>Stay tuned for more updates! </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone!</p><p>I'm finally back with chapter two and all the build-up is finally going somewhere wohoo. </p><p>Hope you are all doing well, enjoy reading and maybe leave some feedback if you're up for it! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first scheduled fake-date is a coffee shop date, out of all things. </p><p>Louis almost groans when he reads the schedule for the following week. It seems like they’re trying to get things moving now that November is transitioning into December and the pre-christmas time is an excuse handed on a plate. It’s prime fake-dating time and Louis is kind of curious if he’ll get close enough with Harry to find out who else is pretending to be in a relationship for business purposes. Or because they’re forced to by management. </p><p><br/>
The online calender says to be at the coffee shop in Manchester at 4 pm, making it a tight fit with commuting there after internship, but maybe Louis will find a way to leave early. It’s not like his presence really is required there anyways. </p><p><br/>
AB-PR and Harry’s team apparently don’t joke around because when Louis checks his bank account before paying for the train ticket, he’s positively surprised to see that the sum he’d spent on tickets to London the day he signed the contract had already been transferred to him. He’s been told to email one of the contacts on the list he’d been given and send a more or less detailed description of what expenses needed to covered and then the friendly young lady on the other side would work her wonders. </p><p><br/>
When he arrives on set - because it kind of feels like he is playing the co-star role in a movie - he tries to take in the whole scene. Everyone present, which is only Harry, Mr Price and the same bodyguard Louis had already seen at the signing, is already awaiting him at the agreed location: A Starbucks not far from the city centre but not too central to be mobbed. </p><p><br/>
“Hi,” Louis greets them and tries to quickly figure out how to approach them. A handshake? A hug for Harry? Nothing at all?</p><p><br/>
“Hello Mr Tomlinson,” Mr Price replies. “The photographer will be here any minute now.”</p><p><br/>
Photographer is a nice description for pap, Louis thinks and actually says out loud when Mr Price is out of hearing range. </p><p>Harry smiles at him. “Yeah, I guess,” he shrugs, “it’s their job though, most of them are just trying to earn some bread as well. And at least they’re hired now, not lingering around the corner when I’m trying to go to the shops without being recognised.”</p><p><br/>
While Louis feels sorry for Harry not being able to go out in peace, he’s considering his words at the same time. For someone who has bullshit published about him and photos taken of him without his consent every single day of his life, he’s got a surprisingly positive look at it. </p><p><br/>
Before Louis can comment on it, they’re being ushered into the Starbucks to go and get their drinks. Luckily it’s surprisingly empty despite the afternoon time and no one comes running up to them screaming about how Harry Styles is standing right in front of them. </p><p><br/>
“One cappuchino with almond milk,” Harry orders, “grande.”</p><p><br/>
“Name?” the uninterested barista inquires while marking various things on the cup. </p><p><br/>
“Harry.”</p><p><br/>
He doesn’t even look up, either having no clue who’s standing in front of him, or not caring at all. “Alright, next.”</p><p><br/>
“Uh, hi, I’d like a tall earl grey, please,” Louis stutters, not really having thought about what he’d order and just going with his all time favourite. “Name’s Louis.”</p><p><br/>
“You’re getting tea at a coffee shop?” Harry, who’s still standing next to him, teases.</p><p><br/>
Louis shoots him a fake-offended and scoffs. “Who are you to judge, you take almond milk in your poor excuse of a coffee.”</p><p><br/>
“That makes £7.80, please,” the barista interjects emotionlessly. Louis opens his wallet and is about to hand the man a tenner when Harry interrupts him. </p><p><br/>
“Nope, I’m paying.”</p><p><br/>
Louis turns to look at him. “You really don’t have to.”</p><p>He wants to add “It’s not like it’s my money”, but he doesn’t. It’s probably not a good idea to expose himself as a payed actor on the first date, no matter how little the Starbucks employee cares. </p><p><br/>
“It’s my treat, first date and all,” Harry insists and winks at him. Louis lets him pay. </p><p><br/>
Being the gentleman he is, Harry holds the door open for Louis when they exit, making him blush the tiniest bit. </p><p><br/>
“Did you know that almond milk isn’t even that good for the environment?” Louis tries to distract from how visibly nervous he is. The steps down from the Starbucks are a bit uneven and Louis has to focus on setting his feet in the right place in the right order because falling flat on his face right in front of Harry would be unbelievably embarrassing. </p><p><br/>
“How so?”</p><p><br/>
“Well, I read that compared to cow’s milk, the production of almond milk only causes like, a tenth of greenhouse gases. But it needs fifteen times as much water to be produced - don’t pin me down on the exact numbers though.”</p><p><br/>
Harry nods and musters him curiously. “Interesting, I didn’t know that.”</p><p>“I have too much free time on my hands,” Louis shrugs, playing it down but internally feeling satisfied to have contributed something intelligent. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he wants Harry to have a good opinion of him. </p><p><br/>
Mr Price, having waited outside the Starbucks, comes up to the two of them and explains how they’ll be preceeding. The photographer next to them nods along to what’s being said.</p><p><br/>
They’re being lead a bit further down the street and apparently the photos will be taken from a distance so it doesn’t look too staged, but more like someone coincidentally spotted Harry and his mysterious companion. </p><p><br/>
“I think we’re supposed to laugh right now,” Louis says, eyeing the photographer as inconspicuously as possible. </p><p><br/>
Harry takes a sip of his coffee, hissing at the temperature and nods. </p><p><br/>
“Don’t worry, I’ve got loads of good jokes lined up.” His eyes sparkle and a grin is already spreading on his face like he can barely contain it. It’s quite adorable. </p><p><br/>
“Well then, hit me.”</p><p><br/>
“Okay, okay… that’s a lot of pressure right now… uh, why did the gym close down?” He looks straight at Louis, waiting for him to answer instead of bursting out the punchline. </p><p><br/>
“I don’t know, perhaps because everyone finally realised that excersise is only fun when it’s team sports?” Louis replies dryly. </p><p><br/>
 “Noo,” Harry boos, “it’s because it just didn't work out!”</p><p><br/>
Louis’ eyebrows rise as if to say <em>really?</em>, but he cracks a smile when Harry starts pouting. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on, that’s funny!” the singer whines. </p><p><br/>
Louis takes sip of his tea instead of answering, pettily turning away from Harry, earning a scoff in fake-annoyance. Eventually, Louis gives in. </p><p><br/>
“Okay, it is funny, yeah, but that’s only because of how funny you find it and not because of the pun itself.”</p><p><br/>
“Just you wait, Tomlinson, I’ll make you laugh at some point.”</p><p><br/>
“We’ll see about that.” </p><p><br/>
Louis looks around while concentrating on his beverage again. Mr Price is standing close to the photographer, maybe even directing him how exactly he wants the pictures done. He seems like the kind of boss you just can’t satisfy, but to be honest, that’s not Louis’ issue right now. <br/>
Harry’s bodyguard is loitering somewhere further down the street, close enough to intervene if something were about to happen, but decidedly not part of the pictures. </p><p><br/>
“Okay, I’ve got another one,” Harry announces when Louis’ eyes sway past two girls who have stopped walking on the other side of the street, contemplating whether this is <em>the</em> Harry Styles or not. One of them is grabbing her phone, raising it to take a photo and usually Louis would be offended and feel uncomfortable, but in this situation, it’s probably even beneficial. </p><p><br/>
“Shoot,” he nods when his focus is back on Harry. </p><p><br/>
“What did the buffalo say when his son left for university? Bison!” This time, Harry doesn’t leave enough time for Louis to ruin the joke.</p><p><br/>
“When his son <em>left</em>? That’s how my family<em> introduces</em> me.“</p><p><br/>
At first Harry stays quiet, but when the joke finally sets in, there’s no holding back. Harry’s laugh is boisterous, genuine, unique - all these things you find infectuous about a laugh. He throws his head back when he laughs like that and Louis grins at him. </p><p><br/>
Before Harry can share more semi-funny puns, his phone vibrates with an incoming call and when he picks it up, Mr Price tells them to come over because they’re done. It’s surprisingly quick, but apparently all the desired photos have been achieved and Harry has a follow up-appointment anyways. </p><p><br/>
“Well done,” Mr Price comments half-heartedly, ”Harry, you’re being picked up in two minutes, the car is just around the corner.”</p><p><br/>
Harry nods in understanding, turns to face Louis and grins. “Well then, I hope you had a nice first date, can’t wait for more.”</p><p><br/>
“It was… speedy. Nice, yeah. But don’t think you’ll be off the hook with a quick coffee like that every time now.” <br/>
His tone is teasing but Louis feels like he doesn’t need to worry about it being perceived in the wrong way, because so far, Harry and him had gotten along splendidly. Well, the few minutes they’d actually talked to one another in private, without five other people around them. </p><p><br/>
“Something tells me you’d like it anyway,” Harry winks back before hugging him goodbye shortly and leaving in the opposite direction. Whether the hug is genuine or because the girls nearby are still watching them, Louis doesn’t know. He reciprocates it though, and wishes Harry a good day. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The pap pictures are dropped that evening, giving Louis a few free hours before excessively watching his social media increase in popularity once again. He doesn’t know much about the whole process, but apparently they sell the pictures to some well known magazines in both the UK and USA. Not that it’s necessary, because a mere half an hour after Louis’ left the Starbucks, one of the girls from the opposite side of the street has posted it online, probably on Twitter. </p><p>It plays into their hands, but despite awaiting it restlessly, Louis is still shocked to see the first article featuring his face. </p><p><br/>
The pap’s pictures are blurrier than Louis expected. Maybe it’s on purpose, he doesn’t know. He follows the heated debate online about who the boy next to Harry is, because coincidentally, if you zoom in on Harry’s cup his name is readable, but Louis’ cup is turned the other way round, only showing off the Starbucks logo. </p><p><br/>
In one of the pictures Harry and Louis are exiting the coffee shop, in another Harry is pouting because he’d just told his unconvincing gym joke, while Louis stands with his back to the camera. </p><p><br/>
It’s the fan pictures that really sell the fake date though. There are a few of them that look pretty similar, taken like a series and most of them feature the moment of Harry’s laughing fit. They look genuine, with Louis grinning right back at him with crinkled eyes, his side profile visible, giving the media a rough idea what his face looks like. </p><p><br/>
Repeatedly checking everything going on online is fucking creepy and exciting at the same time. In some moments Louis is genuinely scared about how he’ll ever get a job once all the real dating articles launch. In others he can’t wait to know what the next weeks will entail concerning pap walk dates. He has yet to actually post something on his new social media accounts himself and thinking about it makes him kind of twitchy, unsure how to introduce himself in the best way possible without making everyone hate him immediately. </p><p> </p><p>A day after the Starbucks incident, and his cousin sending Louis a screenshot of some instagram update account with four question marks that he doesn’t know how to reply to, Louis invites Stan to Doncaster and conveniently, both of his parents are out to attend respective christmas parties. </p><p><br/>
“I’m scared that everyone I meet for the rest of my life will always say<em> hey aren’t you the bloke that Harry Styles dated back then?</em>, you know?”</p><p><br/>
Stan nods, propping up his legs on the sofa in the Tomlinson’s living room. “Yeah I get it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like, usually if I messed up with someone, I could still move to, let’s say Leeds and no one would know me or my ex. But now? Now I move to Leeds and if the bird leading my future job interview there follows Harry on Twitter, I’m fucked.”</p><p><br/>
“That’s possible, I guess,” Stan says and digs deep into the bowl of crisps, shoveling a whole handful into his mouth gracelessly, “but maybe it’s actually good for you, have you considered that? Maybe you end up in a different job than you expected and being known in the public eye is an advantage.”</p><p><br/>
Louis scoffs unconvinced. “Like what? The music industry? I have a degree in sociology, in case you remember.”</p><p><br/>
Shrugging, Stan sits back in a more relaxed position. </p><p><br/>
“Maybe you’re overreacting here. Maybe AB-PR and Harry’s team will do a great job and the media will love you. Have a little faith.”</p><p><br/>
Louis stares at the muted telly flickering in the background but can’t focus on it. They have yet to choose a movie or series they’re going to watch because they’ve been so caught up discussing the whole Harry thing. </p><p><br/>
“You have to say that, you work for AB-PR.” </p><p><br/>
“True, yeah. But not everyone at the agency is like me. We have some really bright minds in our rows, believe me.”</p><p><br/>
“The whole agency full of people like you?” Louis fakes a shudder running through his body “I’d be quicker outta there than you can spell your name.” </p><p><br/>
Chucking a sofa cushion at his friend, Stan laughs, giving Louis an opportunity to steal the bowl from his grip. </p><p><br/>
A few minutes later, when they’ve both agreed on rewatching Ted, Stan eyes Louis for a second, making him turn towards him with a raised eyebrow. </p><p>“What?”</p><p><br/>
“Nothing, I was just thinking - a lot of beards, or fake dates, are forgotten after a few months or years. As long as they don’t cause too much drama, of course. Some of them do make a name for themselves but I really think it’s possible to avoid that if you do it right.”</p><p><br/>
Louis nods, not wanting to waste his night worrying his brain, but honestly? Stan might be right about being able to get off lightly if you’re an unproblematic fake-boyfriend, but Louis doubts that’ll be the case for him. Coming out as gay is kind of a big thing for a celebrity like Harry Styles, especially considering his popularity amongst younger audiences. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Harry gets to come out exactly one week later.</p><p>And Louis doesn’t claim to know Harry well yet, but he’s relatively sure the idea behind it is Harry’s. Harry’s official youtube uploads a five second video of him standing in some unpopulated street, waving a pride flag with both of his hands above his head. Stills of this video are posted on his Twitter and Instagram, captioned <strong>”proud”</strong>. </p><p><br/>
Louis is that too, proud of Harry. He obviously knew the date beforehand as it was listed in his calender, but he wishes he’d have a way to reach Harry and tell him in person. But that would have to wait until their next date. </p><p><br/>
Naturally, it doesn’t take long until more rumours about them do the rounds, both planned, strewn strategically and simply developing online, depending on the predominant opinions. Louis is on the train to London for their second date later that week when he looks through the google news featuring Harry, making himself go paranoid even more than he already is. How is he even supposed to react when someone approaches him? No one does, but he can’t stop worrying the whole three hour ride. </p><p><br/>
For the first time he also questions what losely acquantined people will think of him. His parents and his friends are one thing, but what about the people he doesn’t see regularly? The people watching his Instagram stories whenever he posts something every other month on a night out with the lads who will most definitely talk behind his back because that’s just what people do?</p><p><br/>
His old footie team back home in Doncaster, where he used to play before he first moved to Manchester to study. His favourite teacher back at school, Mr. Fletcher, who made sociology the only endurable subject of Louis’ A-levels and who probably is the reason he chose to study it. The neighbour whose two boys Louis used to babysit in the summer after his GCSEs. </p><p><br/>
All the people who would ask Stan “Oh by the way, how is Louis doing?” and then frown when they<br/>
hear he’s got a degree in sociology and casually dates an AMA-winning popstar. </p><p><br/>
Louis is still in a weird mood when he types the address where they’re supposed to meet up into the maps search bar. Mr Price’s assisstant had emailed him offering a car to pick him up from the train station, but Louis isn’t quite ready for that, insisting that taking the tube and walking the rest is fine. For now, they let him go through with that. </p><p> </p><p>It takes Louis a while to get the spot at Primrose Hill he’s ordered to show up at. He’s actually surprised how much he enjoys the way there though. He knows a few popular places in London, from movies, the news and the few times he’s been there himself, but Primrose Hill doesn’t fall under that. It’s quite pretty though, now at the beginning of dusk in the cold of December, with the street lamps giving the view over the city a romantic yellowish glow. </p><p><br/>
Aside from that, a walk in the park date is the coffee shop date’s little, slightly less annoying sister. It’s a good shot for people who start talking via tinder and want to meet on neutral ground in fear that the guy on the other side of the conversation could be a pushy psychopath. And it’s also a solution for their situation, needing pap pictures without gaining too much attention yet. But Louis can proudly claim to have never taken a guy - or girl, way back then in the dark times of fragile questioned heterosexuality - out on a walk in the park date. At least not until they were official and it was considered a typical couple’s activity to have a chill picnic at Alexandra Park. </p><p><br/>
Harry and the “crew“ are already waiting, standing aside from the hotspots of mulled wine drinking, wrapped up in thick winter coats to keep them warm. Louis has been told to clear a few hours and it’s actually a prospect he’s excited about - having enough time to take a proper walk and talk. </p><p><br/>
It’s a bit of back and forth but then they’re left alone to just do their thing and come across as authentic and on the verge of the tingly but inofficial dating phase. </p><p><br/>
“How have you been?” Harry asks when they’re out of hearing range, burying his hands in the depth of his coat that’s probably Gucci, but it’s not like Louis would know. </p><p><br/>
“Good, good. Same old. You?”</p><p><br/>
“Same,” Harry replies. Louis is surprised that Harry isn’t bringing up that it most definitely isn’t the same situation as the last time they were papped. He’s been making news every single day since, name dropped in the headlines of every rag more often than not. But if Harry doesn’t start talking about coming out, Louis will be damned to push him on that. </p><p><br/>
“Who even thought of this, a walk in the park date?” Louis’ tone is teasing, trying to lighten the mood while they walk downhill. They’ve been hit with surprisingly cold temperatures the past few days and it’s only shortly after five pm, but they can see their breath as if they were smoking. </p><p><br/>
“Me, actually,” Harry says with a straight face but looks over to Louis with a smile playing around his lips, ”they wanted me to do another coffee date, but I thought one was enough for now. Don’t want a coffeeshop relationship.”</p><p><br/>
“Well then I think a thank you is in order,” Louis smiles back. ”I definitely don’t want to go down in history as the guy who only ever met his popstar boyfriend at Starbucks.”</p><p>“I’ll make sure the next date is going to be at a Costa Coffee then.”</p><p><br/>
Louis groans and elicits something close to a giggle from Harry. They continue walking and Louis looks down at his feet, the Vans not doing a good job at keeping his feet warm enough for the blood to circulate healthily. He’s not going to complain about it now, though. </p><p><br/>
“Is it very weird for you? Doing this?” he decides to break the silence after some moments. </p><p><br/>
Harry considers the answer for a second, only the sound of their feet walking on the frozen ground audible. </p><p>“I mean, sort of? But also not, I’ve been around long enough to know how it goes.” It almost sounds cryptic the way Harry says it, but he doesn’t elaborate further. </p><p><br/>
“Tell me to fuck off, but I’m curious. Have you fake dated before?”</p><p><br/>
Harry nods, not facing Louis. “Yes.”</p><p><br/>
“Who?”</p><p><br/>
“I’m not allowed to tell.”</p><p><br/>
“Come oon,” Louis whines, ”I signed all the scary NDAs that threaten to sue me to the last bone if I even repeat a single word.”</p><p><br/>
“Well, so did I,” Harry replies smugly. </p><p><br/>
“Was it Taylor Swift?“</p><p><br/>
Harry stays silent but smirks at Louis teasingly, obviously wanting to push Louis’ whining. He shrugs his shoulders and pulls a face that says <em>Who knows?</em></p><p><br/>
“It <em>was</em> T-Swift, wasn’t it?” Louis keeps trying. </p><p><br/>
“What’s with all the questioning?“ Harry counters. “It’s unfair, you know so much about me and I barely know anything about you.“</p><p><br/>
“Your wikipedia is quite detailed. But you can’t tell me you don’t know anything about me, I’m sure you have my CV on your desk. Even I don’t know all the info AB-PR knows about me.”</p><p><br/>
Harry chuckles and pulls a hand out of his pocket to push back a strand of hair that has fallen into his eyes. It’s getting dark quickly and Louis wonders how the pap that’s probably in their vicinity is supposed to get good pictures like this when Louis’ eyesight is struggling to keep up with the lack of light. He should’ve brought his glasses.</p><p><br/>
“Yeah, but still.”</p><p><br/>
“Okay, tell you what, let’s do twenty questions,” Louis suggests, hoping he doesn’t sound silly. It’s a good way to get to know each other via texts and it makes for a mutually interactive conversation, but maybe a Harry Styles is too mature for that. </p><p><br/>
But Harry just smiles at him and agrees. “Sure, you can start.”</p><p><br/>
“Alright, I’ll start easy. Favourite footie club?”</p><p><br/>
Pulling a face, Harry squints his eyes, the corner of his mouth twisting. “I’m not really into football, to be honest. But from the way you’re asking I’m guessing there’s a right and wrong answer?”</p><p><br/>
“Is that your question?” Louis asks back, trying to be clever.</p><p><br/>
“Is that yours?” Harry grins.</p><p><br/>
Louis groans again. “Ugh, this is a vicious circle. But yeah, there is a right answer and it’s Doncaster Rovers, obviously.”</p><p><br/>
“Obviously,” Harry agrees matter of factly. </p><p><br/>
“But I would’ve accepted Man U as well.”</p><p><br/>
“Alright, now I know.”</p><p><br/>
They slow down slightly, looking at the spare winter botany around them. A group of students is gathering around a bench near them, chilling lazily on the backrest while binge dring cheap alcohol like one does when they’re an edgy seventeen year old. </p><p><br/>
“Funnily, footie is actually how I ended up here,” Louis says when they’ve passed the teen group. </p><p><br/>
Harry shoots him a unintelligible look, encouraging to explain. “How that?”</p><p><br/>
“My friend, Stan? I don’t think you’ve met him yet, but he works at AB-PR Manchester. He lost a bet with another friend, about a footie game. It was his bet debt to sneakily put my name on the list for your fake boyfriend. I didn’t know anything until I was shortlisted though.”</p><p><br/>
“That’s crazy!” Harry laughs and Louis is glad he doesn’t think it’s weird or unprofessional - which would’ve been a valid reaction. </p><p><br/>
“It is quite an original way of meeting, yeah. But please don’t have him fired, he’s been through a lot the past weeks.”</p><p><br/>
“I won’t.”</p><p><br/>
Walking uphill again, Louis rubs his hands together in the attempt of warming them up. He’ll definitely need to go get a nice hot tea on his way back to the train station. And also call up Stan to tell him how his date went, how surprisingly easy talking to Harry is and that he doesn’t mind it at all that much. Then also deny that he’s dangerously close to enjoying this whole act a little too much. </p><p><br/>
“Apparently you’re not very good at keeping this up, so I’ll just continue. If you could star in any movie or series, which would it be and why? And I’ll hit you if you say Dunkirk.”</p><p><br/>
Blushing at the mention of his recent acting role in a Christopher Nolan block buster, Harry uhhs until he comes up with a final answer. </p><p><br/>
“The Notebook.”</p><p><br/>
Louis stares at him with his eyes squinted, partly because he’s trying to figure out whether Harry is fucking with him and partly because he’s fighting against the poor dusk light that’s making the conturs of his face go blurry. </p><p><br/>
“Seriously?”</p><p>“Yeah. It’s a great movie! I’d make a good Noah, I think.”</p><p><br/>
“Aww, you’re a softie, Harold.” </p><p><br/>
Louis doesn’t allow himself to think about a sleepy Harry on a couch as big as his living room, cuddling up into a blanket and gently dabbing the tears off his cheeks with a tissue. No. Louis can’t fall for a mental image of Harry yet. Hell, it’s only been what, a few weeks? That’d be absolutely pathetic. </p><p><br/>
Harry shrugs. “Okay, my turn. You studied sociology, right?” He holds up a finger as a sign to wait. “And no, that’s not my question yet. My question is, what was your favourite class?“</p><p>“Sociology of Consumption, I think. Lecture in my masters. The prof was just the best thing that could happen to anyone.”</p><p><br/>
The conversation goes down that road, Harry questioning mostly about non-industry related stuff. More about what studying at university was like, what he enjoyed most and what least, whether he had any crazy stories about living in the halls. How Louis’ internship is going and what he’s hoping to do in the future. Not one question about what Louis’ favourite song of his is. </p><p>If Louis had to guess, he’d say Harry is asking about all the things he missed out on due to being thrown into the spotlight at age sixteen. Louis brings up A-levels and admits to failing the first time around, but Harry doesn’t judge him, at least not outwardly. Instead, he looks at him in a way that Louis would almost call admiring and really, it honours him, being this humble. </p><p><br/>
When they finish the round and end up at the same spot they initially met at, they come to a halt. The pictures the pap got are deemd usable and they’re officially freed from the fake date. Before they’re off to their respective ways home though, Harry turns to him with a smile, his cheeks and nose rosy from the cold. </p><p><br/>
“You know, I wasn’t a big fan of doing this. But maybe it won’t be so bad with you, Louis.”</p><p><br/>
It’s the biggest compliment for Louis at that moment. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The next two weeks are more low-profile as Harry’s team intents to slowly ease the media and fans into the idea of Louis being permanently present rather than just springing it at them all at once, but they both are encouraged to post hints. Which turns out to be rather tricky as they don’t exaclty have pictures they’ve taken together yet other than the pap shots. </p><p><br/>
Eventually they settle on a few sporadic Twitter interactions, most of them initiated by whoever has access to Louis’ account at that moment. They’re superficial, not giving away much, but it’s enough to keep the interested parties following. </p><p><br/>
Louis also starts using his new Instagram account, unlike his personal that’s been going through a dry spell ever since the first video call with Mr Richards. A few fans have found it and sent a request to follow, but Louis has blocked them all, figuring that once he goes active on the official one, that’ll be enough to get them off his neck. </p><p> </p><p>On Friday evening, Stan convinces him to meet him in Manchester to go and check out the christmas market booths that sell hefty alcohol and get pleasently hammered after a busy week for both of them. Reluctantly Louis agrees, because Friday evenings two weeks before christmas in the centre of Manchester are never a good idea unless you like being crushed to death by large crowds. </p><p><br/>
But after the second mulled wine with amaretto and only getting hit in the back by someone stumbling into him twice, Louis starts to feel more relaxed. Stan’s currently fighting his way through the people around them, trying to get them a third and last round for the night. </p><p><br/>
Pulling out his phone from his back pocket, Louis sees a new notification indicating that Harry has just tweeted.</p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry_Styles: How does a snowman get to work? By icicle!</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Louis’ initial reaction is to close his eyes and sigh at the pun Harry had just posted for his twenty-five million followers and the world to see. From what Louis has gathered so far, Harry’s twitter time line is a chaotic mix of self-promo, calls to action and opinions on world events as well as questionable jokes. He can’t keep a dopey smile from his face though, because he knows how funny Harry thinks he is and it’s just adorable. Trying to not put a typo into every word due to his useless and stiff fingers, Louis types out a response. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Louistml: Chill @Harry_Styles</strong>
</p><p><br/>
“Two hot chocolates with Baileys coming right up,” Stan interrupts his thoughts as he navigates his way over to Louis, placing two steaming cups on the wobbly wooden table in front of them. </p><p><br/>
“Cheers mate, what do I owe you?” Louis asks while scrolling through the stream of retweets and comments.</p><p><br/>
“Nothing,” his friend replies and blows on his beverage to cool it down to a drinkable temperature. “What’s with the face?“</p><p><br/>
“Huh?”</p><p><br/>
“What’s got you looking at your phone so smile-y? Or rather, who?” Stan’s smirking smugly because he bloody knows the answer, he’s just being a little shit about it. Louis is not about to just give up though, he won’t grant him that win. </p><p><br/>
“Oh, you know, just my two hundred thousand twitter followers thinking I’m funny.”</p><p><br/>
Stan nods, smiling into his hot chocolate while trying to take a sip without burning the insides of his mouth, failing horribly. </p><p><br/>
“Don’t let it blow up your ego though, please.“</p><p><br/>
Now more serious, Louis grabs his cup too, resting his locked phone on the sticky table surface. </p><p>“I won’t, don’t worry.”</p><p><br/>
They chat about a few people they used to go to school with, the now third girl Stan did his A-levels with, and Louis would’ve too if he hadn’t fucked up the first time around, is getting married with a child on the way. A boy Oli used to work with at the local Asda is apparently out there winning Curling competitions like it’s a real career to persue. It’s kind of depressing, hearing about all these people he and his friends used to grow up with getting a grip on their life while Louis is still stuck at the internship, no steady income in sight. Well, not in the traditional way at least. </p><p> </p><p>When their conversation inevitably sways back to Harry, Louis is suddenly struck by an idea for his first official Instagram post. </p><p><br/>
“Can you take a picture of me pointing at Zippy?”</p><p><br/>
Stan raises his eyebrows with a confused look on his face. “Zippy?”</p><p><br/>
“The giant santa sitting there on the town hall,” Louis elaborates, pointing his finger in the rough direction.</p><p><br/>
“How do you know he’s called Zippy?”</p><p><br/>
“How do you <em>not</em> know that? He’s a legend, the lad,” Louis mumbles while unlocking his phone, opening the camera and handing the device to his friend. </p><p><br/>
“I think you need to move a bit over there or he’s not fully visible,” Stan advises and directs Louis until it looks like he’d intended to, his back to Zippy and pointing at him with his pointer finger, smiling widely at the camera. </p><p><br/>
“Here you go,” Stan hands him his phone back. “What’s it for?”</p><p><br/>
“Instagram,” Louis supplies while looking through the photos to choose the best one despite all of them looking the same. AB-PR has been pressuring him to post something more personal, so hopefully they’ll be on board with the face reveal. </p><p><br/>
“Uh, exciting.”</p><p><br/>
Louis doesn’t respond to Stan’s teasing, trying to come up with a witty caption that would also be a loose reference to Harry’s terrific twitter pun. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Louistml: What does Santa suffer from if he gets stuck in a chimney? Claustrophobia</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Content with what he’s come up with, Louis only hesitates a second before pressing “post.” His Instagram isn’t as popular as it’s been pretty much dormant since creation, but he guesses that’s about to change quickly. </p><p><br/>
Louis goes back to sipping his now cooler hot chocolate, feeling the Baileys buzzing through his system and warming him up from the inside. </p><p><br/>
“You work for those clowns so give me your professional opinion. Is that a good first post or are they going to hunt me down?”</p><p><br/>
Stan raises a finger while chucking the last of his beverage, sighing when he puts down the empty mug. </p><p><br/>
“I think you’re good. But I’m also not involved in your case right now, so don’t pin me down on it.”</p><p><br/>
With all the likes and comments flowing in, Louis googles where in the settings he can specifiy that he only wants to get notifications from people he’s following himself - which is only Harry, the entire English national football team and Lewis Hamilton as of now. The minute after he’s figured it out, he actually sees a comment pop up under his post. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Harrystyles: Good one. But I personally think Zippy has acrophobia and he’s stuck up there.</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Louis smiles at the comment. Sometimes he’s unsure whether he’s talking to Harry’s team or Harry himself, but this is definitely Harry. </p><p><br/>
“See, Harry knows he’s called Zippy too!” He thrusts the phone in Stan’s face, making him read what he’s talking about. Stan smiles at him as if he’s calling him out on having a crush. Which he maybe is, but Louis doesn’t acknowledge it. </p><p><br/>
“Well then it’s good you’re both on the same wavelength.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next few days until about six days before christmas, Harry is busy in New York and later LA, following media presence duties and handling the rush of interview appointments concerning his recent coming out. Ellen is among the hosts he’s doing an interview with for obvious reasons, same as James Corden. </p><p><br/>
The morning before he’s on the Late Late Show, Harry tweets a quote from a Billie Eilish song, which isn’t unusual but pretty much a genius move when Louis finally gets what it’s about. </p><p><br/>
“So, Harry, there’ve been a few rumours reaching my ears,” James Corden grins at Harry, who’s grinning right back at him. They have history going way back to like, 2011, when Harry was just a little boy in a boyband who’s about to take over the world, so Louis doesn’t know how much James really knows about Harry’s personal life. </p><p><br/>
“Have there? Would you enlighten me what those are?”</p><p><br/>
“Well, let me read you your latest tweet,” James teases and the audience cheers. He licks his lips and waits until they’ve calmed down, increasing the suspense. “<em>Those ocean eyes</em>, full stop.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah,” Harry says. “Billie is an amazing singer, I met her at the American Music Awards just last month. Incredible what she’s getting out there, as young as she is.“</p><p><br/>
“Don’t try to distract me here, Styles, I have important questions to be answered,” James threatens jokingly. “… Now, whose ocean eyes are we talking about here?”</p><p><br/>
Harry laughs a little awkwardly when the audience cheers again, someone whistling even, and coughs into his elbow to buy himself some time before answering.</p><p><br/>
“Let me quote Billie on that again, James… <em>Your</em> ocean eyes,” he replies, putting the emphasis on <em>your</em>. </p><p><br/>
James laughs his infamous boisterous laugh and puts down the moderation cards on his table. “Is it? Because when I was browsing online, I’ve kinda been getting different ideas.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah. And I’m not saying you’re lying to me… But I’m saying you’re lying to me. I do have gorgeous baby blues, but I’m just not buying what you’re selling me here.”</p><p><br/>
“Now that’s your problem, James,” Harry laughs and shrugs, earning a fond smile from the host. Looking at it as an objective watcher, Louis’d guess James knows. </p><p><br/>
“Whoever it is, is a lucky someone then. I wish you all the best for the future, Harry, you’re a brave young man and I’m sure there are millions of people out there thinking the same.” James looks straight at the camera and shows a picture of Harry’s planned album cover. “His album is out mid-March, people!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>All in all, Harry handles it well. Publically, he says exactly what’s expected of him, making it easy on his team and AB-PR. How it looks on his inside, Louis can only guess. </p><p><br/>
It’s mid-December now, a peak of dating, fake or real. Now that Louis thinks about it more in depth, he realises that even some of his real-life friends have girlfriends or boyfriends for the winter, just to feel less lonely in the cold season. Also, it’s probably nice to get laid regularly. That’s something Louis won’t be experiencing until his contract is over, he really can’t afford that kind of headlines. Harry Styles’ first public boyfriend cheating on him. </p><p> </p><p>Harry and Louis are supposed to be seen together one last time before the year is changing and they’ll both be granted some time off over the holidays. Harry’s team and the main planners ask Louis whether it’s possible to arrange something at his home, but he declines, wanting to leave his parents and his childhood home out of the whole ordeal as much as possible. It’s enough that they know what’s going on by now. </p><p><br/>
“It’s youre choice, Louis, you’re an adult,” his mum had said when he’d first brought it up, out of fear they would see his face plastered on some printed tabloids when they’re at the hairdresser or grocery shopping. </p><p><br/>
<em>It’s your choice</em> is the official adult version of “I don’t agree with your decision”, just that they can’t forbid it anymore. They’re only worried about him and maybe also a little about their own reputation - because bloody hell, middle aged women in their neighbourhood <em>talk</em>. Louis just hopes that not too many people will confront them with the whole topic as he’s honestly not sure they’ll be capable of selling the relationship authentically, no matter how much he emphasises the importance of it. </p><p> </p><p>Ultimately, the original plans are overturned and the final decision falls on Harry’s London home, probably against his will. The team’s newest plan is a different approach this time, no more pap walks the rest of the month, just domestic bliss at its finest. </p><p><br/>
He’s invited to Harry’s London home on a Friday evening after work, where he’s been subtly questioned about his media presence the second time this week. A fancy black car with tinted windows picks him up from an agreed spot near the train station he arrives at and takes him on a forty minute ride through the London rush hour before he arrives at Harry’s… estate. </p><p><br/>
Unsurprisingly, it’s fancy, big, in an expensive neighbourhood. When his arrival is announced, he’s buzzed in, Harry meeting him half way. </p><p><br/>
“Hey,” Louis greets casually, fastening the straps of the ruckbag he brought. His heart is still racing like the first time he met Harry because in the end, this is an opportunity not many people get to experience. He would probably take first place at any party when it comes to who has the craziest story to tell. </p><p><br/>
“Hi, good travel?” Louis nods and Harry leads him inside, showing him where to put his shoes and hang his heavy jacket. The floor is tiled with smooth beige tiles and Louis is pleasantly surprised at how warm they are.</p><p><br/>
“In-floor heating,” Harry explains when he sees Louis’ reaction. Louis nods in understanding and tries to take in every stimulus in the entry area. It’s a wide open space, mostly held in light colours, with some vases and exotic looking sculptures placed on a chest of drawers. </p><p><br/>
“Want a tour?” Harry probably asks out of decency, but who is Louis to turn an offer like that down? He sure is sorry to be this invasive, that Harry’s forced to let a stranger into his home, but when Louis’ honest to himself, he can’t keep his curiousity down. </p><p><br/>
The more Louis sees of Harry’s massive house, the more he gets the feeling he’s not worth being here. This is not the life he’ll ever be able to maintain unlike he spontaneously wins the lottery. Harry only gives him a rough tour, hallway, kitchen, guest bathroom, dining area, living room, but keeps him from the more personal rooms, which is totally understandable. </p><p><br/>
The kitchen looks surprisingly lived in, loads of cooking books strewn around the kitchen cabinets, various herbs sitting on the windowsill. And of course Harry would be someone who owns colourful tableware with polka dots. Harry shortly explains that he likes to cook and especially bake whenever he gets the chance to, but that it’s hard considering he’s on a different continent a third of his time.</p><p><br/>
“Here’s the bathroom, if you need to use it.” It’s obviously not the main bathroom that Harry mostly uses, but it’s still fancy and squeaky clean. The hand towel hanging next to the sink is a soft pastel blue and everything just looks so surprisingly home-y. Louis would love being home if he lived here. </p><p><br/>
To end the tour Harry shows him to the dining home, transitioning into a sitting area with a giant tv. The couch probably fits around twenty people and Louis suddenly gets flashbacks to the image of Harry cuddled up on it, crying to the Notebook. Nope, get a grip Tomlinson. </p><p><br/>
“May I?” Louis nods to the glass cabinet next to the living room cupboard that holds the tv when he notices the many awards in it. </p><p><br/>
“Sure.”</p><p><br/>
Carefully approaching it, Louis can’t help but make goggley eyes at what he’s seeing. Eight Brit Awards, seven AMAs, a couple BMAs and a myriad of other awards that Louis can’t even name. </p><p><br/>
“The Teen Choice Award surfboards didn’t fit in there?” Louis teases when he notices Harry joining him. </p><p><br/>
“Nah,” Harry laughs. “But not all my awards are here, I keep some of them in LA. The AMA from last month is still there for example.”</p><p><br/>
Louis keeps staring at the cabinet, sort of wanting to touch one awards or all of them, but not daring to ask. That’d be inappropriate. </p><p><br/>
“What’s it feel like? Winning big awards like these?”</p><p><br/>
“It’s amazing. You … I can’t even put it into words really. A lot of them are from my time with the band, and it’s one thing standing up there with two or three other people. But winning a Brit alone? An AMA?” Harry pauses for a second. “I can’t believe it sometimes.”</p><p><br/>
Louis smiles fondly at Harry, feeling oddly proud and admiring him for being so … genuinely human. That he’s not taking his success for granted. “You deserve them, though.”</p><p><br/>
Harry doesn’t answer, just smiles and nods curtly. “Dunkirk won some awards too, but sadly I didn’t get to take any of them home.”</p><p><br/>
“Ah yes, I almost forgot that you’re a filmstar too,” Louis chuckles. “Honestly, I’m a bit jealous of all the cool stuff you get to do and all the people you get to meet.” It’s meant to be funny, but it’s also the truth. He’d love to meet some of the people he’s idolised since he’s been a child, and Harry gets that opportunity all the time. </p><p><br/>
“You might meet a few people when you’re visiting me in America next year. I can’t guarantee anything though.”</p><p><br/>
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Louis states seriously. “I don’t want you to get the impression that I’m only using you to get my paws into Hollywood or something, because I’m not.”</p><p><br/>
“No, I know.”</p><p><br/>
They stand next to each other in silence for a minute, before Louis speaks up again. </p><p><br/>
“What award are you most proud of?”</p><p><br/>
Harry opens the cabinet and reaches in, grabbing an award that’s a proper fake-golden cup from the left back. “This one.”</p><p><br/>
Even after studying it intensly, Louis has no idea what Harry has won with it. The inscription on the base of the cup only says <strong>1st place</strong>, nothing more. “What’s that?”</p><p><br/>
“My friend Adam threw a birthday party, I think it was his twelfth birthday? We went to a gym and played Badminton and I won. My first and only sports trophy to this day.”</p><p><br/>
Louis laughs, not having expected that, watching Harry stroke over the cup softly before placing it back in the cabinet, careful not to touch any of the other awards. </p><p>“But really? My first Brit, probably,” Harry points to the sleek trophy sitting in the middle. “Back in 2012, and it was the night we met Adele for the first time. That was pretty incredible.”</p><p><br/>
“I can imagine.”</p><p> </p><p>After some more minutes of ogling the evidence of Harry’s massive music career, they switch over to the couch, Harry offering him some food but Louis declining for now. </p><p>“We need to take some selfies to post today and tomorrow to make it look like we’re spending the weekend together,” Harry summarises his team’s orders. </p><p><br/>
“Alright, let’s do it.”</p><p><br/>
They wiggle around, trying to find a comfortable position that doesn’t look they’re absolutely faking it and Harry ends up with his arm slung around Louis’ shoulders while Louis takes a couple selfies. </p><p><br/>
“Okay, let’s do some others so we have a few options to choose from,” Louis proposes. </p><p><br/>
Experimenting around, they take some pictures of just one of them, Louis chilling on Harry’s couch, Louis sniffing the exotic kitchen plants, Louis pulling a funny face with his eyes crossed. Harry covering his own face with his ringed hands while his hair is sticking up wildly, Harry staring at his phone like he doesn’t notice his picture is being taken. Quite domestic, if it were real.<br/>
 </p><p>Finally, the settle on turning on the telly and propping their feet up on the very expensive looking coffee table. Making sure to not include anything personal from Harry’s living room in the background, Louis posts an Instagram story of just their legs, Harry’s right hand sitting on Louis’s left knee, partly visible if you focus on it. <strong>“Night in,”</strong> Louis captions it, adding a cute moving emoji. </p><p><br/>
“That should do the job,” Harry figures. “Want to actually watch a movie? I could make some popcorn if you’re up for it.”</p><p><br/>
“Sure.”</p><p><br/>
They agree on The Revenant as neither of them has seen it in one piece yet, and they both love Leo, claiming he deserves a hundred more Oscars. Louis doesn’t even dare ask Harry whether he knows Leo personally too. </p><p> </p><p>About an hour into the movie, Louis starts yawning, tired from being at the internship for seven hours and then travelling to London. Leo’s acting is amazing as always, but after fighting the sleepiness and heavy eye lids for a couple minutes, Louis allows himself to nap for a bit. Just rest his eyes a bit, really. If Harry didn’t want him here, he’d have kicked him out after they’d taken the selfies. And he trusts Harry to be self-confident enough to wake him up if his presence starts bothering him. </p><p><br/>
Except, Harry doesn’t wake him up until the movie is long finished. It’s way after midnight when Louis wakes up to a persistent nudge in his shoulder, turning out to be Harry’s hand when he finally manages to open his eyes despite the blinding lights.</p><p><br/>
“What?” he mumbles unintelligible. </p><p><br/>
“It’s pretty late, just wanted to let you know.”</p><p><br/>
“Ugh.” Louis sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles and leaning his head back to make the bones in his neck crack. “Sorry.”</p><p><br/>
Harry just nods, moving to get up and gather their empty glasses and the popcorn bowl from the coffee table to take it to the kitchen. When he returns, Louis is still sitting on the couch staring blankly at the wall, feeling slightly post-nap-dazed and shuddering at the prospect of having to get up and actually commute all the way back to Doncaster now, at night in shitty weather. </p><p><br/>
“’m sorry, gimme a second and I’ll be out of your hair. Just got to check when I can take the next train,” Louis says as he fishes between the sofa cushions for his phone. The thing is though, he doesn’t want to leave. He likes it here, in the warmth of the living room and with Harry keeping him company. He can’t demand to sleep over though, sadly. </p><p><br/>
Harry stays quiet where he’s standing in the middle of the room, watching Louis type away on his phone, searching for connections. </p><p><br/>
“Or,” Harry starts, causing Louis to look up. He definitely tries not to show how much he’s hoping for a certain outcome. </p><p><br/>
“Or you could stay. Kip here.” The way Harry says it is easy-going and very platonic mate-like, no hidden intentions, no shame you’d feel when you’re asking your date to stay over for the first time. </p><p><br/>
“Yeah?” </p><p><br/>
“Yeah. If you don’t have anything to do tomorrow morning, I mean. I’m free until, like, early afternoon so it’s no problem on my side.”</p><p><br/>
“That’d be ace, thank you,” Louis smiles and means it.  </p><p><br/>
“I’ll go and set up the guest room for you. Do you need anything?”</p><p><br/>
“Just a blanket and maybe some water. And a phone charger, if you happen to have a spare one. But I can just sleep on the couch, you don’t need to set anything up for me.”</p><p>“Nonsense, it’s a matter of seconds,” Harry insists. “I’ll put towels and a tooth brush on the bathroom counter too, if you want to shower tomorrow morning.“</p><p><br/>
“Thank you, let me know if I can help you somehow,” Louis offers, feeling slightly reluctant to cause too much trouble. Harry is already out of the room, bustling around in the guestroom down the hall. The house has more than one guest room, as Louis remembers, but apparently this one comes with his own bathroom so who is he to deny Harry’s offer? He’ll just pay for Harry’s beer when they’re out for a date sometime next year as a thank you. </p><p><br/>
Out of boredom, Louis opens Instagram while he’s waiting for Harry to finish setting up the room. The second the app loads on his screen, he’s swamped with comments and likes. While he’s getting used to it, it’s still a bit much reaction to just posting the story a few hours ago. When he actually clicks on one of the comments though, he sees what’s causing the ruckus. </p><p><br/>
Harry had posted a picture of him sleeping, nuzzling into the fuzzy blanket that’s pulled up to his chin. Usually, Louis doesn’t like having his picture taken when he’s sleeping, always either looking stupid with his mouth open or sporting an unlucky double-chin. Now though, he looks peaceful, cute even, if he might say so himself. No wonder Harry’s fans are going crazy - it’s an extremely domestic picture and doesn’t look staged in the slightest. Well, that’s probably because it isn’t.</p><p><br/>
<strong>“Bed bugs won’t bite you if you fall asleep on the couch,”</strong> Harry had captioned the post. It’s silly and Louis loves it. A small part of him wonders whether Harry will keep all the social media proof of them once the contract’s over - on the other side, why would he and his team want to keep photos of his ex on Instagram. The thought of this picture being removed only stings a bit. </p><p><br/>
“You’re all set up,” Harry announces when re-enters the room. Louis doesn’t mention the Instagram post, just locks his phone and gets up slowly. </p><p><br/>
“Thank you. Really. I appreciate it, would’ve been a hassle to go back to Doncaster now.”</p><p><br/>
He earns a signature popstar Harry-Styles-smile in return and the more times it happens the more Louis feels … special. Being in the focus. </p><p><br/>
“Anytime. Now, I’ll be off to bed. Feel free to wake me up if something’s up.” Yeah no, he definitely won’t be waking up Harry in his personal bedroom unless the house is on fire. </p><p><br/>
“All right, good night.”</p><p><br/>
“Good night, Louis,” Harry says and then he’s off to somewhere, wherever his bedroom actually is. </p><p><br/>
Carefully, Louis strolls into the guest bedroom he’ll be sleeping in, taking a look around when he’s sure he’s in the right room. It’s cosy, unsurprisingly. There is a king size bed located in the middle of the room, the head part pushed against a wall. The bedsheets are dark blue, light blue and some shade of gold, a pretty paisley pattern and probably by a super exotic brand and expensive. He slowly sinks down on the bed and lets his hand wander over the fabric of the sheets. They feel pretty damn soft and Louis kind of wishes he could steal them. </p><p>Needless to say, he sleeps expectionally well that night. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
They don’t talk about the Instagram post the next morning either, when Louis finally emerges in the kitchen at ten am after having contemplated what to do now in the slight offchance that Harry might be still asleep or Louis can’t find him in one of the many rooms. </p><p><br/>
They do talk about their plans for their holidays though, Harry telling Louis that he’s going to take his mum and sister on a well deserved holiday. </p><p><br/>
“What’s your go-to spot when it comes to holidays?” Louis wonders. When he was a toddler, his family used to spend a few weeks of the summer in Cornwall, and later, when he was older, his parents would sometimes drive to the west of France, either Normandy or Brittany, and rent a small holiday home. And that’s pretty much all that Louis’ seen, other than the school trips to Scotland and Marbella, and his lads holiday in Ibiza. </p><p><br/>
“It depends. When I’m on my own, I like to go and explore new places. Love going to Tokyo. Love Jamaica, as well,” Harry replies and he doesn’t mean to be arrogant, it’s not his fault he’s been to all the bloody places and Louis might be having a bit of a jealousy issue. </p><p>“My mum doesn’t like to fly for too long though, so we’re usually going to Italy when it’s the three of us.”</p><p><br/>
“Sounds cool,” Louis comments, unsure what to say. </p><p><br/>
“What about you?”</p><p><br/>
Louis stuffs another piece of the vegan pancake into his mouth that Harry had conjured up in record time, taking a sip of OJ to clear his mouth before answering. </p><p><br/>
“Holidays you mean?” he checks. Harry nods, his green eyes focused on Louis. “I went to Amsterdam with Oli and Stan, my mates, last year. But other than that, I haven’t really been on holiday much lately.” For a second he considers ending his answer here, but he also wants to be brutally honest with Harry so he continues. </p><p>“Money was a bit tight, to be honest. Tuition fee is a bitch and living in central Manchester isn’t exactly cheap either,” he shrugs. “Didn’t plan on travelling a lot next year either, but Stan and I talked about going to a festival. Leeds maybe, or Glastonbury would be amazing.”</p><p><br/>
Harry smiles at him. “Glastonbury’s pretty cool from what I’ve heard. Leeds festival is too, I went there with Liam and Niall when I was…  around sixteen, I think?”</p><p><br/>
“Cool.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah. But you’ll get to travel a bit thanks to the contract. I’m sure Clara will be pretty cooperative when it comes to that.”</p><p><br/>
“Clara?”</p><p><br/>
“Mrs Sanchez. She’s my publicist, actually, you’ve met her before.”</p><p><br/>
Louis nods and finishes his pancake. A few minutes later, he’s ready to head out of Harry’s door and step into the fancy black car waiting in front of Harry’s house to take him to the train station. </p><p><br/>
“Hey, before you go, do you mind exchanging numbers? Not that it isn’t fun to talk via tweets, but I think it’d make stuff a bit easier,” Harry says, surprising Louis. </p><p><br/>
“Uh, sure? I thought that too but I didn’t want to bring it up because I don’t know how easily you give away your personal phone number to strangers,” Louis explains and hands Harry his phone. Who thought he’d ever have Harry Styles, international pop and film star, type his phone number into his contacts. </p><p><br/>
“Well, you’re not a stranger anymore, are you, boyfriend?” Harry smiles teasingly. </p><p><br/>
“True, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The holidays are rather uneventful other than Stan, Oli and two other friends coming over for Louis’ birthday on the 24th, bringing an arrangement of alcoholic beverages and unhealthy junk food with them because it’s kind of hard to go out partying the night before Christmas. Most of his friends are off to visit some distant family for a few days until new year’s eve, so it’s the best solution. </p><p><br/>
Louis’ pleasantly buzzed when he checks his phone that evening, seeing a text message from Harry. They hadn’t exactly been talking after they’d exchanged numbers, so Louis’ even more surprised.</p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry: Happy birthday Louis, hope you’re having a good day with your friends and family x </strong>
</p><p><br/>
Heat rises to his cheeks when he focuses on the x added to Harry’s text. It’s nothing special, his cousin and some friends from uni text like that all the time, but still. This is Harry Styles ending text messages to him with a kiss. Oh what a life he’s leading. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Louis: Hey, thanks! Didn’t know you knew my birthday</strong>
</p><p><br/>
The response isn’t immediate and Louis has to refrain from obsessively checking his phone so his two other mates won’t suspect something’s up. They’re not in on the whole fake dating thing and Louis feels horrible about it, but one of them, Alex, kind of talks and Louis can’t risk his secret getting out. Not with the NDAs and contracts he’s signed. He just hopes they’ll buy it when stuff starts to get intense and then forget about it for the rest of their lives once Harry and him break up. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry: Well I should know my boyfriend’s birthday, shouldn’t I? I’m under a contract too, and your CV is lying on my desk as you said, haha</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Ah yes, that’s right. This isn’t a friendship (yet?), it’s an employment relationship with both sides benefiting from it. Harry gets to come out and establish himself new, Louis gets money. It doesn’t matter that Louis enjoys it, at least some parts of it, and that he could see himself being actual friends with Harry. But that doesn’t really happen in real life, does it? Popstars don’t stay friends with their ex fake-partners, they have friends who are actors or singers or models or the child of rich parents or all of the above. </p><p><br/>
“Lewis, you want another Jägermeister shot?” Oli interrupts his thoughts.</p><p><br/>
Louis pulls a face because Jägermeister is downright disgusting, but nods and locks his phone, putting it in his back pocket. “Bring it on.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A few days before new year’s eve, Louis finally receives a long awaited email including travel data concerning his flight to fucking New York City, starting the second week of January. Luckily, the specific period had been marked in his calender for a few weeks now so Louis had already talked to his boss at internship and applied for leave. He’s scheduled to be in NYC for roughly five days but two of them are weekend days so Louis’ only missing three weekdays of work. Still, Louis’ boss hadn’t been happy about it. </p><p><br/>
Visiting Harry in New York sort of kicks off the proper fake dating phase, at least in Louis’ mind. It is quite serious to fly to a different continent just to see your boyfriend for a couple days, isn’t it?</p><p> </p><p>One way or another, Louis is quite nervous about the whole thing. Packing is a struggle - he’s never been good at it anyway, always leaving it to the last minute, but usually it’s easier if he knows that he’s only going to be relaxing at the beach for two weeks straight. Now though, he’s not really sure what to expect. What is he supposed to wear for the pap walks? Will he need something fancy?</p><p><br/>
The night before he gets picked up and driven to Manchester airport, he texts Harry.</p><p>
  <strong>Louis: Is it normal to be this nervous about a flight?</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Harry replies in a matter of minutes as he’s already in New York and it’s only late afternoon for him. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry: Don’t worry, everything will go well. Have you been to the states before?</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Louis: No. And it’s also my first time flying alone, so I’m a bit nervous I’ll forget what to do</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Louis: God I sound like a baby, sorry</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry: It’s absolutely valid to feel nervous about travelling alone. I still feel that sometimes! Just know that at least one person in my team is always available if something comes up. We won’t leave you stranded at JFK!</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Louis: I’d hope so :D</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry: Now go and get some sleep, you’ve got a long day ahead of you. See you for dinner tomorrow! </strong>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Louis: Sir yes sir</strong>
</p><p><br/>
It’s kind of adorable how Harry texts, always sounding encouraging and excited with all the exclamation marks he’s using. And Harry’s right, he should head to bed. He’s already being picked up in six and a half hours and he knows sleeping on the plane will suck. Plus he definitely doesn’t want to look like shit at his dinner date with Harry. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The flight is long and exhausting, a good seven and a half hours of sitting next to some weird snoring woman who took about eighteen bathroom trips and always needed Louis to get up for that. But despite the crappy food and next to no opportunity for a good nap, Louis is kind of glad he’s flying economy. Business class definitely would have some perks, but he’d feel terribly out of place. And it’s not like he needs to worry about being recognised at this point. </p><p><br/>
He’s been told someone from AB-PR would be awaiting him at the airport, with a sign saying<em> LT</em>, and Louis is beyond glad when he finds the lady, Miss Pittman, and follows her to the black car that’s about to take him to his hotel. </p><p><br/>
Seeing New York City in movies and even from the plane window when snoring woman was off to her last bathroom trip of the flight, is great and all but it doesn’t compare to actually driving through it in the slightest. Louis feels so small, so insignificant in between all these sky scrapers and yellow taxis and so, so many people. London is an experience, but New York feels completely different. </p><p><br/>
He keeps staring out of the car window, watching the scenery fly by, until he’s ushered out of the car, told to bring his bag up to his room and then come back down as he is to meet Harry in twenty minutes. </p><p><br/>
The restaurant is a good ten minutes away, so naturally, when Louis joins Miss Pittman, she’s already waiting impatiently. Louis eyes her more closely when she gets in the passenger seat, sitting across from Louis. She’s exactly the kind of person you’d expect at AB-PR New York, clad in a short but appropriate grey skirt, her rose blouse tucked in neatly, hair in a strong bun. The only thing missing are glasses, in Louis’ opinion. </p><p><br/>
<em><strong>Mr. Rice Guy</strong></em>, Louis reads the restaurant’s name when he steps out of the car. It’s nice, small with a few unoccupied tables in the entrance area. <em>Alright, let’s get the show started then.</em></p><p><br/>
Harry’s already inside, sitting at a table to the left, directly at the window, probably so pap pics will be easier to take. A bulky man is sitting across from him and for a second Louis squints his eyes and wonders who he is, but then Harry notices and gets up to greet him.</p><p><br/>
“Hey!”</p><p><br/>
“Hi,” Louis says back and leans in for a hug before he even realises what’s happening. It’s okay though, he tells himself, they’re in public and supposed to act this way. He’s known Harry for a couple weeks now, he’d hug his mates too. Totally. </p><p><br/>
“How was the flight?” Harry asks as they’re both settling down, Louis choosing to sit next to Harry because why the fuck not. </p><p><br/>
“Good. Exhausting. The woman next to me went to the loo about seven hundred times so I didn’t really get to sleep.” </p><p><br/>
Harry hums in sympathy. Shrugging off his jacket, Louis places it over the back of his chair, leaving him in an Adidas hoodie. Thankfully, the restuarant doesn’t look too fancy so he doesn’t need to worry about being underdressed. </p><p><br/>
“This is Rico, my bodyguard. This is Louis, my boyfriend,” Harry introduces the two of them when Louis sits down. <em>My boyfriend</em>. Louis’ pretty sure he’s blushing but tries to play it cool by smiling at Rico. “Hi.”</p><p><br/>
“We haven’t ordered yet but I already know what I’m getting,” Harry continues as he pushes the menu over. Louis skims the front page and points at the rice ball with a smiley face. </p><p><br/>
“Could be your pun, Mr Rice guy,” Louis teases, making Harry laugh. </p><p><br/>
“It’s a cute rice ball though. I’ve been here before and I keep coming back, the owner and staff are nice. If you don’t know exactly what you want but you know it’s not KFC, then this is a good place. They have some typical american dishes but also east asian specialities.”</p><p><br/>
Louis hums as he scans the many options on the menu. Harry is right, a lot of it sounds appealing and he has a hard time deciding. In the end he settles on a stereotypical cheeseburger and some fries, because when in America, earning a teasing comment from Harry who’s getting some exotic Japanese soup that Louis can’t even pronounce. </p><p><br/>
“It reminds me of Tokyo,” he explains. </p><p><br/>
“You seem to really like Tokyo.”</p><p><br/>
“I do, it’s so different from London and America. Like, it’s kind of a western country too, they have all the technological advances and stuff, but the culture is so different. I’ve met some really admirable people over there.”</p><p><br/>
Louis smiles fondly at the way Harry keeps talking about Japan, the friends he’s made there, what places he’s gotten the opportunity to visit. He’s slowly sipping the ice-cold coke the waitress had just delivered, listening to Harry and occasionally sparing Rico a look, who’s mostly quiet and sticks to examining the photos on the wall behind them. </p><p><br/>
Their food is ready in a matter of minutes as they’re still early for dinner and the restaurant isn’t even filled with half the people it could host. They all dig in hungrily and eat silently until Louis asks Harry about his holidays. </p><p><br/>
“Sicily was nice, we were very lucky with the weather. Almost twenty degrees every day.”</p><p><br/>
“Oh, lucky. I was in Manchester for new year’s eve and we almost drowned. Didn’t stop pouring the whole night.”</p><p><br/>
Harry nods and takes a sip of his lime water. “Yeah, I heard about that. Still, Gemma was the only who dared to go for a swim in the sea.”</p><p><br/>
“Oh yeah? Why?”</p><p><br/>
“I mean, just because it’s twenty degrees outside doesn’t mean the water is too.”</p><p><br/>
“Wuss,” Louis coughs into his hand, in a way that makes sure Harry would hear what he’d said. </p><p><br/>
“Did you say something?” Harry pretends to have missed it, eyes big and innocent.</p><p><br/>
“No, no, my throat was just itchy,” Louis fakes a cough again. “You know how it is.”</p><p><br/>
“Mh.”</p><p><br/>
They both keep eye contact, smirking at each other despite having to turn their bodies because they're sitting so close. Lads banter, and stuff. When they finally break, Harry checks the clock hanging on the opposite wall, cursing. </p><p><br/>
“Shit, it’s almost six already.” </p><p><br/>
Louis doesn’t know why that’s a problem but he guesses it has to do something with the paps. Maybe Harry doesn’t like being papped eating, who knows. </p><p><br/>
“Well, better hurry up with your fancy soup then. Rico and I are already finished.”</p><p><br/>
Grabbing the spoon again and dunking it in the soup, Harry looks at him and smiles smugly. </p><p><br/>
“What can I say, nice guys finish last.”</p><p><br/>
“Nice guy finishes last at rice guy, what a headline for the rags,” Louis comments, causing Harry to almost spit the soup straight into Rico’s face. </p><p><br/>
“Pull yourself together!” Louis tries to fake a strict voice while also laughing, helping Harry dab at the food he’d distributed on the wooden table. Louis’ got to admit, it’s impressive how unfazed Rico sits there and endures it without saying a word. </p><p><br/>
The pap shoot itself isn’t half as bad as Louis had imagined. No one even comes in to get close ups, there’s just some guy with a big SLR camera, photographing them through the restaurant’s window. Louis isn’t actually sure what’s the legal stance on that, but no one interrupts them so maybe Harry’s team has informed Mr. Rice Guy’s owner beforehand. Maybe it’s good press for them. </p><p><br/>
Louis can’t keep in a yawn that’s been threatening to break through for a few minutes now and Harry notices, eyeing him while finishing his chat with Rico about his daughter because apparently Rico has a personal life too and isn’t just an emotionless statue. </p><p><br/>
“Tired?” </p><p><br/>
“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” Louis yawns again and rubs his eyes, blinking a few times to get a clear sight. Casually, as if he does it all the time, Harry puts his left arm around him, resting partly on the chair’s backrest and partly on Louis’ back. This is definitely new. </p><p><br/>
“I can imagine,” Harry says sympathetically. “We can leave in about fifteen minutes.”</p><p><br/>
“Alright.”</p><p><br/>
Rico and Harry go back to talking about where the bodyguard is needed tomorrow and what places they’ll be visiting on their sight seeing tour. The only task tomorrow is being out and about and hopefully getting seen together by some fans who blow it up on Twitter. </p><p><br/>
Louis closes his eyes for a second but opens them when he feels something tingling his upper arm. It takes him a second to understand that it’s Harry’s fingers stroking him softly, casually, while discussing where to eat tomorrow and what Rico would prefer. </p><p><br/>
The thing is, it shouldn’t affect Louis as much as it does. He’s not supposed to feel all jittery inside because <em>this is not a freaking date</em>. It’s not. But he’s got Harry’s bare, tattooed arm around him and his thumb caressing him and it just feels so natural. </p><p><br/>
Mabe Harry is always that naturally touchy with all of his mates, but anyway, Louis doesn’t mind this for the next five and half months. </p><p><br/>
At some point, Louis feels daring and goes for the boldest move he’s pulled with Harry so far - cuddling up to him. He tries to move his chair over without attracting attention, probably failing because Rico shoots him a look mid-sentence, but in the end it doesn’t matter because Harry goes along with it, pulling him in with his arm. </p><p><br/>
It’s unbelievably relaxing, resting his head against Harry’s warm shoulder and closing his eyes, still feeling Harry’s finger dancing over his hoodie. </p><p><br/>
When they get picked up a couple minutes later, they barely talk on the way back to the hotel. Apparently Harry is staying in the same hotel as him, for many reasons, but obviously they retreat to their respective rooms. Nonetheless, Louis falls asleep with a smile on his lips, thinking of Harry. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next day starts too early, but Louis can be bribed into a slightly better mood than he woke up with by being promised a tea at the first coffee shop they can find. The first coffee shop they stop at doesn’t actually offer Yorkshire tea, so Louis goes with Earl Grey and is satisfied with that. </p><p><br/>
AB-PR’s representative, Mr Smith, has a hardworking team with employees like Miss Pittman, as Louis finds out. They do their job well, having booked tickets they need for certain sight seeing events beforehand and making sure to plan a logical tour that keeps them safe at all times. </p><p>Well, sight seeing is as much fun as it can be with an international popstar and a bodyguard in pack, but Louis is still grateful for the opportunity and soaks up every second, from eating his first ever New York cream cheese bagel to taking the ferry to Ellis Island. </p><p>From what Louis can tell, they get sneakily photographed quite a few times, some people even stop and dare to ask for a selfie with Harry to which he answers with maximum professionalism and usually agrees with a smile. </p><p><br/>
Louis may or may not tease him about always doing a thumbs up in pictures and Harry tickles him while strongly denying it, only to do it all over again in the next selfie. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Shortly after two pm, they stop in front of a Chick-fil-A so Rico can grab a bite, both Harry and Louis agreeing that they’ll get something else later. Strolling a bit further down the street they stop and lean against the house wall, clearing the pavement for people who want to enter the fast food restaurant. </p><p><br/>
“Isn’t it a lot of effort, doing all this just to make people believe you’re dating me?” Louis questions when he’s sure no one is around to overhear their conversation. </p><p><br/>
Harry shrugs, no emotions visible on his face, other than maybe a bit of resignation. “That’s the show business today. It’s sick.”</p><p><br/>
“Don’t get me wrong, I like you, I don’t mind doing this and if this is the way to go I’m gladly helping you. But it just seems kind of unfair to me. Coming out shouldn’t be that much of a deal nowadays.”</p><p><br/>
“Definitely not. I hope that one day everyone can be who they want to be, no matter their sexual orientation or their profession. I mean, it’s not even like I was severly oppressed, it was way worse a few decades ago, but there’s still so much room for improvement.”</p><p><br/>
“Word.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Friday and Satuday, Louis is allowed to do whatever he wants. Miss Pittman tells him to be careful and stick to the contract’s conditions especially in case someone recognises and approaches him, but Louis doesn’t think that’s very likely. </p><p>So while Harry is busy filming an episode for a late night show and doing some promo pictures for a magazine’s front cover, Louis is out exploring the city that never sleeps. </p><p>He mainly tries to cover free sights that don’t require pre-booking and eats himself through all the stuff he’s always been wanting to try. It’s a good two days, despite missing Harry’s company. </p><p><br/>
When he passes through one of the less busy shopping streets, he hears a familiar sound echoing back to him, making him go nearer. It turns out to be a teenage boy, covering one of Harry’s latest singles. He’s not sure whether it’s allowed so Louis directs his camera at the buildings and the sky above them rather than the boy and the other pedestrians in the street, hoping the cover of <em>Falling</em> will be audible in the video. Uploading it as an Instagram story, Louis comments <strong>“Good taste in music. Keep it up lad!”</strong></p><p> </p><p>Parallel to Louis' content, however, there is also a rumour trending that Harry has something going on with another man. It’s the first time Louis sees himself tagged under a post about this specific man, and he knows he shouldn’t but he clicks on it. </p><p><br/>
Apparently the man in question is someone called Xander, who’s out and about in the most literal way and has been linked to Harry before. They’re probably friends of some sort and it’s just getting blown way out of proportion and context, but that’s just how it works. </p><p><br/>
If something explodes in the media, and especially social media, like popstar Harry Styles coming out, it doesn’t always only happen in the direction you want it to. Because yeah, Harry is gay and apparently dating Louis, but who says he can’t also be seeing some other guy?</p><p><br/>
What bugs Louis most about the whole drama, besides some people potentially thinking he is getting cheated on or whatever, is the fact that it’s so much of a topic at all. This is Harry’s personal business. Sure, they don’t exactly try to hide Harry’s and Louis’ relationship, kind of the opposite, but if it weren’t for them rubbing it under everyone’s noses, no one should feel entitled to dig up what and who Harry does in his free time. </p><p> </p><p>Louis tries to forget about it for the rest of the day, ignoring all apps on his phone that require wifi other than Whatsapp to text Stan and his mum. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The next day Harry’s team picks him up with a car to bring him to the airport, and to Louis’ surprise, Harry accompanies them to say goodbye at the gate. Probably for dramatic pap pics. </p><p>It’s kind of tragic actually, Louis has just gotten used to the time zone and now he has to go back to England and it’s going to feel like a constant hang over with all the back and forth in time. </p><p><br/>
When they step out of the car and make their way to the airport entrance, they’re met with a few paps and Louis feels kind of uncomfortable anyways, but it only gets worse when he hears what they’re shouting at Harry. </p><p><br/>
<em>“Harry, Harry, are you really dating?”</em>
</p><p><br/>
<em>“What’s it like being out, Harry?”</em>
</p><p><br/>
Louis huffs annoyed, because being out would probably feel way better if it weren’t for their stupid questions and remarks. </p><p><br/>
<em>“Are you secretly hooking up with Xander?”</em>
</p><p><br/>
And now that’s really what’s got Louis fuming. He gives a lot, understands that his privacy will be intruded due to their situation, but he won’t go along with the image of being cheated on. It also isn’t fair to Harry at all, they don’t know him and to Louis, he certainly doesn’t make the impression of someone who’d cheat. </p><p><br/>
Harry ignores all the comments like the professional he is and just grabs Louis’ arm lightly, encouraging him to just do the same. Louis’ definitely not having it though. </p><p><br/>
“We might need to turn it up with the fake dating,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s ear with a hand around his mouth so even someone who’s capable of lip-reading won’t be able to decipher what he’s saying. Harry’s answer is just a hum. </p><p><br/>
The next second, Louis makes a decision and just goes through with it. </p><p><br/>
Louis leans up slightly and presses his lips to Harry’s, effectively interrupting the pap closest to them asking about an upcoming actor that Harry might potentially be connected with. </p><p>It’s cheesy, but it feels like the world around them stops. Maybe the paps around them have stopped shouting at them, rather focusing on getting the best pictures of their kiss, or maybe Louis just blocks it from his perception. </p><p><br/>
Harry’s lips are pretty nice, soft. Louis wishes he didn’t have to stop, but after another second, he steps back before Harry can. They’re both stunned at first but try to play it off as something they do regularly, smiling at each other. </p><p><br/>
Rico is dragging them along to continue walking until they’re in the part of the airport where paps have no access. They’ll get pics of Harry leaving the airport alone when Louis’ boarded the plane, that’s got to be enough for one day. </p><p><br/>
Louis is torn when he’s checking in. One side of him is glad he can board the plane and fly across the ocean now, away from Harry and his very confused feelings, because no matter how little he wants to admit it, <em>he’s falling for Harry way too fast</em>. The other side of Louis wants to stay here in New York and kiss Harry some more, even if it’s just for show. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone!</p>
<p>Life's been super busy so that's why this chapter took me so long, but the next one will be up way quicker!</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy reading and thanks to everyone who's left feedback! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pictures of Louis kissing Harry burn their way through social media like a wildfire. Every more or less known online magazine reports on it, every Harry fan account on Tumblr, Twitter and the like has reposted it and it’s probably even been topic in some trashy celebrity telly shows as well. </p>
<p>It’s also a good conversation starter, as Stan decides. He even includes a screenshot from PopSugar. </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Making it official: Harry and his boyfriend Louis share a passionate goodbye kiss when parting ways at JFK</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Stan: So……..</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>Stan: Is Styles a good kisser?</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: Fuck off. </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Stan: Can I call you?</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: Uh okay?</strong>
</p>
<p><br/>Not even five seconds later his bestfriend’s name pops up on the screen. Louis accepts with a sigh, still lounging in his bed, trying to cure his jetlag. </p>
<p><br/>“Helloo, how’s my favourite WAG doing?” Stan greets him. </p>
<p><br/>“Fuck off,” Louis repeats and pulls the duvet up to his shoulders. Sleep deprivation makes him tend to run cold and internship had been exhausting as hell today, so he deserves some cuddly time. </p>
<p><br/>“Aw, don’t be like that, I just wanted to check in on my best mate. You didn’t text after landing yesterday, I was worried sick,” Stan fake-sniffles. </p>
<p><br/>“You’d totally sell the story if the plane I was taking crashed, making it a big headline.”</p>
<p><br/>“Absolutely,” Stan plays along. The line goes silent for a couple seconds, the mood shifting from banter to seriousness. </p>
<p><br/>“So, you and Harry Styles are getting along then?” Stan asks, voice neutral.</p>
<p><br/>“Yeah, I guess.”</p>
<p><br/>“Well, that’s good then. It was kind of visible online, too.”</p>
<p><br/>Louis knows that, obviously. His social media had been overflowing with notifications, causing him to close the apps after a few seconds completely overwhelmed. He hasn’t heard anything from Harry since, which should be okay because they weren’t scheduled to interact online, but it’s still unsettling, making Louis worry how Harry thinks about the kiss. Whether he regrets it. </p>
<p><br/>“There is nothing going on though,” Louis feels the need to vindicate. “It was just necessary in that situation. The paps were shouting some nasty shit and I’m not about to be called the boyfriend Harry Styles cheated on.”</p>
<p><br/>“Fair enough.” Stan’s not teasing, but he’s probably got something to say he’s not voicing right now. </p>
<p><br/>“Besides, I barely see Harry anyway,” Louis adds, eyeing the still unpacked suit case resting next to his bed, a few clothes strewn around the room. If there’s one thing Louis really despises, it’s settling back into his everyday routine after a holiday. And doing laundry, god he hates doing laundry. </p>
<p><br/>“If I look at the next few weeks, I don’t think that’s true though,” Stan throws in. That’s news to Louis. Clicking can be heard in the background, probably of Stan typing away on his Mac. </p>
<p><br/>“Huh? How do you mean?”</p>
<p><br/>“Well, your joint schedule is quite packed. Harry’s coming back from New York on Wednesday. Give me a mo’.”</p>
<p><br/>“Sure,” Louis says and sits up in his bed. “I haven’t actually gotten the schedule for this week. <em>Two weeks in advance</em>, my arse.”</p>
<p><br/>“You should tell Harry or whoever you get along with about that. They can’t expect you to dance to their piping, you’ve got the right to a personal life too,” Stan remarks, now on speakerphone and with even more typing audible in the background. </p>
<p><br/>“I guess.”</p>
<p><br/>“Sooo,” Stan skims over the calender. “Harry’s scheduled for BBC Radio One, the breakfast show with Grimshaw on Thursday morning. And then the Jonathan Ross Show on Saturday the week after, but they’re going to record it a few days prior.”</p>
<p><br/>“Good for him, but nothing I’m involved in. Maybe that’s why they haven’t bothered to update my calender.”</p>
<p><br/>Stan hesitates for a second, probably contemplating what to tell Louis. Despite them being close friends and now connected through the same PR-agency, there still are sensitive topics Stan isn’t allowed to talk about legally. </p>
<p><br/>“You could ask Harry’s team to come along. Not like, on air or anything, but I know Jonathan Ross has backstage rooms and Nick Grimshaw’s a good friend of Harry’s I think.”</p>
<p><br/>And now, that would be super cool. An actual insight into the TV programmes and radio shows Louis has been keeping up with for years. But would AB-PR and Harry’s team really allow that?</p>
<p><br/>“That would be… pretty fucking amazing, to be honest. But I don’t wanna come across as greedy you know? It’d feel kind of inappropriate to demand that in my position.“</p>
<p><br/>“Alright, it was just a suggestion.”</p>
<p><br/>“… can’t you try and ask, maybe?” Louis asks carefully. If Stan were sat in front of him, he’d flutter his eyelashes and smile shyly.</p>
<p><br/>“Ugh,” Stan makes and Louis already knows he’s won. “Okay, I’ll try and talk to them. But I can’t promise anything.”</p>
<p><br/>“Thank you! I’d say I owe you, but I feel like we’re not even close to equal at this point, considering all the shit you’ve put me through.”</p>
<p><br/>“Are you sure? I mean, you get to snog your long-time crush Harry Styles on the regular now,” Stan smirks.</p>
<p><br/>Louis ends the call and flips the bird on his phone, but is unable to keep the slight smile off his face. He just hopes Stan will succeed in convincing whoever is in charger of planning Harry’s public appearances this week, because being backstage at Jonathan Ross is probably just as cool as flying off to some foreign city and definitely something he won’t get the chance to do ever again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As it turns out, Stan hasn’t lost his charme and indeed is able to talk Mr Price and Mrs Sanchez into letting Louis tag along to Jonathan Ross. BBC Radio One sadly isn’t going to happen for Louis for reasons he’s not allowed to know, but he can deal with that. Getting to experience half of the things Harry does is still so much more than the average citizen gets to do, so he’s not complaining. </p>
<p><br/>Just when Louis’ about to book his train tickets to London for the upcoming Monday, he receives an email from the lady who’s tending to his financial expenses. She’s informing him that taking the train is not necessary, as he’ll be picked up. For a second he’s unsure whether they know what they’re getting themselves into, because driving from London up to Doncaster and back is quite the journey. </p>
<p>In a second email though, she confirms that they’re aware of the distance and his current home address, and that Mr Styles will be accompanying him. Which makes Louis’ heart beat a little bit faster than he’d admit. </p>
<p><br/>Harry will be in Doncaster, at his parents’ house, in just three days.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>To Louis’ surprise (more or less, nothing <em>really</em> surprises him anymore when it comes to AB-PR and co), Mrs Sanchez steps out of the car as well as Harry on Monday morning, the driver remaining in his seat. That poor guy is going to have to actively suffer and fight his way down the A1 and M11 while everyone else gets to chill. </p>
<p><br/>Luckily, both of Louis’ parents and everyone in the neighbourhood is either at work or, in case of the few children living in the streets who aren’t old enough to move out yet, at school. Having them peek through their kitchen windows and observe the obscure scene that is popstar Harry Styles paying Louis, sociology-degree-Louis who moved back home, a visit wouldn’t exactly be a highlight for him. </p>
<p><br/>“Hi, nice area,” Harry greets him with a hug. </p>
<p><br/>Louis made sure to already wait packed and ready to go in front of the door, so not even the slightest chance of a scenario where he’d have to invite them in would arise. Also, they probably have a tight schedule anyway, seeing as the Jonathan Ross episode would be recorded that afternoon. </p>
<p><br/>“Thanks, I grew up here,” Louis replies as he waits to be told where to get in the car. Mrs Sanchez says her hello as well and tries to subtly examine Louis’ parents’ home. Maybe she has to collect notes for the headlines about how Harry is visiting his boyfriend in his hometown, or something. </p>
<p><br/>Harry and Louis both get in the backseat, his little overnight bag safely stored in the boot. Mrs Sanchez settles in the front next to the driver, with a notepad in her lap, scribbling down words intently.</p>
<p><br/>“How come you’re actually picking me up? Donny’s nice, but not <em>that</em> exciting,” Louis asks. </p>
<p><br/>Harry buckles up and wiggles around until comfortable, pulling down the dark skinny jeans a tad with his hands. He looks casual, like the Harry in their third year of One Direction (not that Louis is that deep into it, of course) and nothing like the new, flamboyant Harry. Perhaps that’s just the calm before the storm and he’ll be all dressed up for the taping later. </p>
<p><br/>“I visited my mum at home, so it’s only a small detour to pick you up before going to London.”</p>
<p><br/>“Ah, makes sense.”</p>
<p><br/>Louis turns to look out the darkened panes, seeing his home street fly by, then the crossroad and the next bigger road he took to secondary school. He’s never seen it from this perspective, a rich perspective kind of. He’d either walked, or ridden his bike, or later driven his mum’s old Hyundai. To say it feels weird is an understatement. But the fact that even if he saw someone he knew, they wouldn’t be able to recognise him through the windows calms his nerves. </p>
<p><br/>A part of Louis wants to engage in a conversation, preferably with Harry, but really, he’d also talk to the driver as long as this awkward silence is broken, because if its stays this way for the next four hours, he’s going to go insane. Mrs Sanchez seems to read his mind and speaks up abruptly. </p>
<p><br/>“How did you like growing up here, Louis?”</p>
<p><br/>He’s taken aback for second but composes himself quickly, trying to think of a suitable answer, considering it’ll probably find a place in her notes. </p>
<p><br/>“It’s good, I guess? It’s not too small, not too big. Loads of footie clubs. It was a good childhood, I’d say.”</p>
<p><br/>“Sounds nice,” she comments but keeps looking ahead at the road instead of turning backwards. “I’ve never been to Doncaster before.”</p>
<p><br/>“Me neither,” Harry chimes in, causing Louis to look at him. </p>
<p><br/>“No? You never played at Doncaster Dome? What a shame.”</p>
<p><br/>“Nope, I don’t think so,” Harry pulls a thinking face but smiles. It’s stereotypical and Louis hates that his thoughts are working like a loved-up teenage girl’s thoughts, but man, those dimples are kind of nice to look at. </p>
<p><br/>“Do you remember all the places you’ve been to?” Louis asks curiously. </p>
<p><br/>Honestly, it’s pretty fucking cool that he gets the chance to ask Harry all these question he’d never get answers to otherwise, because usually theres only three questions in every generic male-popstar interview: Are you dating anyone? If you had a superpower, what would it be? What’s the worst questions you get asked regularly? (Answer to the third one being the first two.)</p>
<p><br/>“Reproduction is difficult because we’ve been to hundreds of cities, but I like to think that I’d recognise most of the places’ names.”</p>
<p><br/>“Christchurch, New Zealand?”</p>
<p><br/>“Uh, yes. 2012 or 2013 I think. No, 2013 probably,” he corrects himself after a second.</p>
<p><br/>“Brisbane, Australia?”</p>
<p><br/>“Yes. Twice at least,” Harry replies quickly, without doubt. </p>
<p><br/>“Batman, Turkey?”</p>
<p><br/>“That’s not a real place,” Harry counters. </p>
<p><br/>“It is! Probably pronounced differently, but it’s a real place. You just haven’t had a break through there yet. Sorry to hurt your ego, popstar,” Louis teases. </p>
<p><br/>“You’re right, actually, now that I think about it,” Harry squints his eyes in a very adorable way while mentally going through all the places he’s been to. “We haven’t ever played in Turkey, I think. I’ve been there on holiday, but that was before the band.“</p>
<p><br/>“See, now you know where to put your focus next: Eastern Turkey.”</p>
<p><br/>“Sure, if you say so.” </p>
<p><br/>Both Harry and Louis chuckle and Louis’ is grateful how light the mood has turned, the bumpy start quickly overcome. It’s almost as if the kiss in New York City never happend, and while Louis sort of wants to bring it up at one point, that’s definitely not going to happen with Mrs Sanchez and an unknown driver in their hearing range. </p>
<p><br/>“How was the breakfast show?” Louis enquires after a couple minutes, trying to keep a conversation going. </p>
<p><br/>“It was good, it’s always fun with Grimmy though he can be a bit embarrassing sometimes. Sad he’s stepping down though.”</p>
<p><br/>“Oh, is he? I didn’t know,” Louis comments surprised. He always enjoyed the breakfast show while he was still in uni and had the time to listen to it whenever he didn’t have lectures in the mornings, but now, with the daily timetable of an actual grown-up, it’s gotten hard to find the time.</p>
<p><br/>“Yeah, Greg is going to take over.”</p>
<p><br/>“Mh,” Louis just makes, not knowing what else to say. </p>
<p><br/>“You didn’t listen though? Now I really am deeply hurt. My own boyfriend doesn’t even care about me being on the radio,” Harry jokes and pulls an almost convincing pout. Louis has kissed those lips. </p>
<p><br/>And he needs to get a freaking grip. </p>
<p><br/>“I had internship. Not every working member of the society is able to listen to breakfast shows all morning, you know. Plus, I hear your squeaky voice whenever I put on the radio and it’s getting kinda annoying, so I didn’t need that on top of everything.” Shrugging as if he doesn’t care, Louis smiles smugly. They’ve only met a few times but he’s already feeling comfortable enough to tease Harry like a long time friend.</p>
<p><br/>He doesn’t expect Harry to poke him in the side and lightly tickle him, but bats away his arms as soon as he realises what’s going on. </p>
<p><br/>“Restrain yourself! No touching until our fourth date, please.”</p>
<p><br/>“Pfff, according to the media we’ve already been going at it for at least two months, that’s more than four dates,” Harry replies but retreats his hands. </p>
<p><br/>“Maybe I like taking it extra slow?” Louis suggests.</p>
<p><br/>Harry musters him for a second, eyes wandering down Louis’ upper body and back to his face. “Yeah, you seem like a slow kind of guy.”</p>
<p><br/>Huffing, Louis turns to his right, crossing his arms and looking out of the window. They’re speeding down the A1 now, and he wonders how much the driver would be sued if he were to get into an accident with this precious of cargo in his backseat. </p>
<p><br/>“Do you not have internship today, then?” Harry speaks up again. </p>
<p><br/>“Nah, my boss and the main employees are off to some international conference in Edinburgh. I could’ve asked to come along but they don’t really need me there and I’m neither interested nor getting paid, so why would I? Three days off for me this way.”</p>
<p><br/>“Lucky coincidence.”</p>
<p><br/>“It is, innit? I bet they’d be jealous as hell if they knew I get to accompany you to Jonathan Ross instead of sitting in boring seminar workshops all day,” Louis grins. </p>
<p><br/>They keep talking about various TV shows Harry has been on and which he’s enjoyed most, Louis unconsciously leaning his body towards Harry the longer they’re on the road. The whole thing feels so normal, but occasionally it strikes Louis how privileged, for a lack of better words, he is. Thousands of fangirls would probably kill for this opportunity and he spends his free time getting paid to talk to Harry. </p>
<p><br/>Sitting next to him for four hours also makes Louis realise how weird it is to view Harry as some kind of higher creature. Sure, he’s a successful popstar and definitely talented at what he does and stuff, but even if he is on the Late Late show once a year, he still watches it like everyone else the other 364 days of the year. Putting things into perspective is a good thing and should be done more often. </p>
<p><br/>The ride is informative for Louis but otherwise uneventful and they only have to slow down when driving into London, which doesn’t surprise anyone. The driver stays mum the whole time, Mrs Sanchez typing away on an IPad, and maybe she does listen in on what they’re talking about, but Louis doesn’t really care. He’s not dropping any personal secrets so it should be fine. </p>
<p><br/>When the car stops in front of a fancy hotel, both Harry and Louis step outside the car. They only drop off their stuff because recording for Jonathan Ross happens in the afternoon and Harry has to get there as soon as possible to get dressed and styled. </p>
<p><br/>Of course they’d book them into the same hotel, making it look like they’re sharing a room even when they’re not. The hotel staff needs to stay quiet about it, or AB-PR will make them, Louis doesn’t know. It’s kind of ridiculous seeing as Harry owns a house in London, but it’s on the other side of the city and he’s probably more comfortable getting papped outside a hotel than his own home anyway. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry’s and Louis’ second kiss isn’t actually photographed in front of the hotel, not a single pap even is in their vicinity there. No, it happens when they’re stepping out of the building complex Jonathan Ross is recorded at, and Louis sees Mrs Sanchez lingering around. She subtly nods towards a man with a camera standing a few feet from her. Louis nods back stiffly. </p>
<p><br/>Having stopped walking, Harry is currently checking his phone and typing out an answer to whoever he’s texting. He obviously hasn’t seen his publicists’ prompt and Louis also likes to think that Mrs Sanchez deems him capable of setting an authentic scene. While Harry did a good job acting in Dunkirk, he’s not necessarily known for good relationship acting skills in the fandom that Louis definitely hasn’t secretly kept up with. </p>
<p><br/>However, there’s a task at hand he needs to tend to and so he does. </p>
<p><br/>“Hey, Harry?” he says as he steps closer to the other man. </p>
<p><br/>“Mh?” Harry just makes, not bothering to look up. </p>
<p><br/>“Come here for a second.”</p>
<p><br/>Furrowing his eyebrows, Harry finally does look up from his phone, but before he can properly react, Louis’ lips are already on his. Just like last time at the airport, Harry tenses up for a second but lowers his phone almost immediately to lean into the kiss. </p>
<p><br/>It probably doesn’t look as realistic as Louis wants it to despite him cupping Harry’s face with one hand now, and he also needs to fill Harry in, so he breaks the kiss but stays close. </p>
<p><br/>“There’s a pap over there,” he explains. </p>
<p><br/>“I figured.” </p>
<p><br/>For his ego, Louis likes to imagine that Harry sounds a bit breathless because obviously Louis is that good of a kisser, but it’s most likely wishful thinking. </p>
<p><br/>The kiss could’ve ended right there, but it doesn’t as they’re both leaning in again. Harry finally frees both his hands, storing his phone in his jacket’s pocket. For a second, he seems to hesitate but when he lowers his hands to softly touch Louis’ waist, Louis reaches up with his other hand too, grabbing Harry’s face with intent and deepening the kiss. He wishes he didn’t wear that warm of a jacket, he wouldn’t mind Harry<em> actually</em> touching him there. </p>
<p><br/>Harry’s lips are plush and soft, just like his stubble-free cheeks and it’s very easy to enjoy kissing him. He’s also skilled at what he’s doing, making Louis yearn for more. </p>
<p><br/>Sadly, there’s no tongue involved. At first Louis isn’t sure he wants it to go that far when the reason they’re kissing is having to get papped, but logically he knows there might never be a situation where they’d kiss without a camera around, so honestly, he’ll take what he can get. </p>
<p><br/>Doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about doing this with Harry behind closed doors. </p>
<p><br/>It’s funny, because for the outside world, making out with one Harry Styles is a privileged, a thing so so many people are jealous of. And it does feel like it, too, because he can’t simply erase that thought from his brain, but it’s also a lot of <em>this is just Harry, Harry the friend, Harry the regular human who likes Tacos and Ryan Gosling and Michael Bublé christmas songs</em>. </p>
<p><br/>At some point, Louis feels daring and changes the angle leaning his head to the right, Harry adjusting intuitively. Soft kissing noises is all Louis can hear and big hands covering his hips is all he can sense and it’s so easy to get drunk on this. </p>
<p><br/>It takes a lot of self-restraint to resist the urge to pull Harry close and push him against the wall of the studio. He shouldn’t be this into it, he really shouldn’t. He wasn’t even nearly this into it when he had to stage-kiss for their musical reenaction of Grease in sixth form. Well, the protagonist he had to kiss was a girl and he was already sure there’d be no way in hell he’d be attracted to her in any way, but still. It’s the principle, he can’t allow himself these kind of thoughts. </p>
<p><br/>They keep on kissing for an indefinite amount of time before Harry slowly eases out of it, pulling away gently. When Louis opens his eyes after their lips have completely parted and only the wet trace on his lips reminds him of what he just did, Harry’s eyes are already opened and watching him attentively, a small glint the only hint that he didn’t <em>not</em> like it. </p>
<p><br/>Dropping his hands from Harry’s face to his shoulders, Louis practically feels the weight of Harry’s full attention on him - it’s amazing. He receives a dimpled smile from Harry and if this doesn’t look authentic from the outside perspective, he doesn’t know what else could sell this. Louis didn’t even look this loved-up with his last ex. </p>
<p><br/>“Let’s get going, shall we?” Harry breaks the silence and pulls away even more. “It’s been a long day.”</p>
<p><br/>“Alright,” Louis agrees and takes another step back, fixing his hair even though Harry didn’t even tousle it. It’s mostly a nervous habit. </p>
<p><br/>The car that’s going to take both of them back to the hotel has already arrived while they were busy snogging, and Mrs Sanchez looks content after talking to the pap, so they’re good to leave. A full twenty-five minute car ride sitting next to Harry, who Louis just kissed. Again. He has no idea what to say. How do you even casually continue being friends after kissing someone, with their hands on your hips, the way you hold a <em>boyfriend</em> and not a mate? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As it turns out, the car ride is indeed kind of awkward. Or, not awkward really, but a certain kind of silent, more like. Harry returns to texting and Mrs Sanchez is talking on the phone with who Louis suspects is someone else of Harry’s PR-team, so there’s nothing for him to do, really. </p>
<p><br/>It’s a bit of a stop and go around this time of the day in this part of London, and even though Louis doesn’t get motion sickness easily, he doesn’t feel like doodling away on his phone so he sticks to looking out of the window. </p>
<p><br/>He doesn’t know what he expected to happen, but he sort of wishes the light mood from this morning’s car ride would resume. When they finally arrive at the hotel, everyone parts ways. No talk of joined dinner, no talk of meeting up later or tomorrow. </p>
<p><br/>Louis shouldn’t demand more from Harry, he got so much already today. He got to watch the Jonathan Ross show being taped, and even though he was only allowed backstage, that alone was incredible. He even got a little tour - mostly because Jonathan Ross moved buildings a year ago and the last time Harry was on his show was a few years back with One Direction, so he didn’t know his way around either, but still. Harry even let him take a look into the dressing room and explained what he knew about getting mic-ed up. </p>
<p><br/>Either way, Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself after he takes a thorough shower in the fanciest bathroom he’s ever used. The shower itself is probably as big as the whole bathroom in his Manchester flat off campus was. Needless to say, it’s a good shower, and Louis nicks one or two of those nice little shampoo bottles because they smell brilliant. </p>
<p><br/>After room service for dinner though, he feels kind of … lonely? Which is a bit ridiculous seeing as he’s been around people almost the whole day. Neither Stan nor Oli text him back and he doesn’t feel like browsing through the hotel TV options either. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>I could see what Harry’s up to. </em>
</p>
<p><br/>It’s a stupid thought and he shouldn’t follow it, but what can he say? Louis is a weak, weak man and it’s no surprise he actually ends up at Harry’s door at half past nine, knocking lightly. Luckily he did hear the receptionist giving the Harry his key card to room 28, otherwise he wouldn’t even know where to go. </p>
<p><br/>It takes a couple seconds longer than Louis expected to wait, and he’s already about to turn around, because maybe Harry is out or busy or showering or asleep, but then the door opens. </p>
<p><br/>“Louis? Hi,” Harry greets him, obviously not having expected him. </p>
<p><br/>“Uh, hi.”</p>
<p><br/>“What’s up? Everything all right?” </p>
<p><br/>“Yeah, just wondering what you were up to? I know it’s kind of late already, sorry. I can just go, if you’re busy?” he offers, realising how weird it must be to have your fake-boyfriend knock on your door at night after a full day of not getting a break from him. </p>
<p><br/>“Uh, not really,” Harry replies and thinks for a second where he’s standing, gripping the door. He’s in grey trackies and a lose white t-shirt and it looks so effortlessly good, it’s unfair. “Do you want to come in?”</p>
<p><br/>“Are you sure I’m not bothering you?“</p>
<p><br/>“Yeah, c’min,” Harry says and opens the door wider for Louis to step into the hotel room. It’s even bigger than his own. Only the best for the popstar, apparently. He wonders how Harry feels about all this luxury and swank. </p>
<p><br/>“Just got to end a call, give me a second.”</p>
<p>Harry turns to sit down on his massive bed where a MacBook is resting and Louis can’t see the screen from his point of view, but with the headphones plugged in he guessed he just interrupted a facetime call.</p>
<p><br/>“Hey sorry, I’m back,” Harry says to whoever is on the other side of the conversation. “Just got company. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” </p>
<p>Silence for a couple second, and Louis wishes he could hear the voice of the caller. Totally not because he got jealousy issues, though. </p>
<p><br/>“Alright, have a good night, see you,” Harry finally ends the call and shuts the laptop close. </p>
<p><br/>“You didn’t have to end that because of me. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”</p>
<p><br/>With Harry sitting on the bed and the curtains already covering the windows, there’s nowhere Louis can pretend to look to come across as casual. Sure, there’s a fancy arse canvas on the wall to his right, but who’s he kidding pretending to be seriously interested in that accident of picture. He just doesn’t get non-representational art and he’s never been the artsy type. </p>
<p><br/>“It’s fine, don’t worry.”</p>
<p><br/>Louis doesn’t answer, just lets his gaze sway around the room more or less sublty. Harry didn’t bother to unpack his bag either, apparently. Why would he, he’ll leave for his London home tomorrow morning anyway. </p>
<p><br/>“So what’s up?”</p>
<p>“Nothing,” Louis doesn’t look directly at him. His reasons for coming here suddenly seem sort of childish. “I was kind of lonely. Couldn’t sleep.” Not that he had attempted to. </p>
<p><br/>“Did you eat?”</p>
<p><br/>“Yeah, ordered room service. I’m still not over the catering this afternoon though. I’d never want to do anything else either if all backtage rooms are equipped like that.”</p>
<p><br/>“It’s definitely an upside, yeah,” Harry laughs. “They ask my team beforehand what kind of food I’d like, actually. If I were into greasy burgers and chicken nuggets every time, that’s what I’d get instead.”</p>
<p><br/>“A dream come true,” Louis sighs, causing Harry to chuckle. </p>
<p><br/>“Do you want to stay and watch a movie? I think they’ve Netflix and britbox.”</p>
<p><br/>And while this is the way Louis had hoped the night would turn out, it still erupts a (small) load of butterflies in his stomach.</p>
<p><br/>“Sure, if you don’t mind?”</p>
<p><br/>“I don’t. Come here,” Harry pats the space next to him. In bed with Harry Styles, dear lord. </p>
<p><br/>“Thanks.” Louis tries to climb into bed as gracefully as possible, but Harry’s occupied with figuring out the TV remotes anyway. “It gets kind of lonely. I mean, you’re obviously familiar with your team and the people we meet, but I don’t really know anyone, and London.”</p>
<p>“I get it,” Harry mutters, distracted by the TV screen. “Any preferences?”</p>
<p><br/>Louis knows Harry means series and movies, but his mind involuntarily jumps somewhere else, somewhere <em>forbidden</em>. In his unrealistic daydreams, they might end up making out on the bed, picking up where they left off earlier at the studio, but so far, the reality is painfully different. And yikes, when did he even start daydreaming about kissing Harry?</p>
<p><br/>“Nah, not really.”</p>
<p><br/>“I’m voting for a movie. I can’t afford to binge a series the next couple days.”</p>
<p><br/>“A movie it is then.”</p>
<p><br/>Harry, boss of the remote, keeps scrolling through Netflix’ recommendations, telling Louis to speak up if he’s interested in something. </p>
<p><br/>“The boy on the Breakfast Club cover kind of looks like Niall,” Louis comments when Harry skips past it slowly. </p>
<p><br/>“Brian?” Harry moves back one movie and inspects the cover more closely. </p>
<p><br/>“I mean, as someone who doesn’t personally know Niall,” Louis tries to save himself in case he just made a total arse out of himself. </p>
<p><br/>“… You’re not wrong.”</p>
<p><br/>“Right?” Louis grins. “I’ve never watched it, but I just noticed.”</p>
<p><br/>“In the movie he doesn’t resemble Niall as much, I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it, too. Fun fact though, Brian’s actually holding a joint but Netflix edited into a pencil.”</p>
<p><br/>“Really?”</p>
<p><br/>“Yup,” Harry smiles when he sees Louis look at him. </p>
<p><br/>“Do you still see them regularly? The other boys from the band?”</p>
<p><br/>“Niall yes,” Harry replies, interrupting their conversation to ask whether Louis is okay with watching <br/><em>The Quick and the Dead</em> because <em>Catch me if you can</em> is freaking long, but young Leo. “Liam regularly but not recently. The last time was in October, I think.”</p>
<p>“And Zayn? Or tell me to fuck off if this is a sore topic.”</p>
<p><br/>Harry sighs, hesitating to start the movie. </p>
<p><br/>“It’s … complicated. Too complicated to explain it now, and I’d rather not get into it right now. We’re on speaking terms, good terms I’d say even, but it’s been a difficult way getting there.”</p>
<p><br/>“Alright. Let’s get it on, then.”</p>
<p><br/>Louis wants to ask <em>Do you think I’ll ever meet any of them?</em> but that feels just downright rude and greedy. So he stays quiet and tries to focus on the film. It’s not the best movie Leo has ever participated in, and Louis’ not really into the whole matter, but it’s solid late night entertainment nonetheless. </p>
<p><br/>The only downside is that no matter how much Louis wishes for it, no cuddling or further physical contact happens. Sure, they’re sitting next to each other in Harry’s bed, their legs or shoulders occasionally brushing when they turn to grab a drink from the bottles resting on the night stands or when one of them changes positions, but aside from that, nothing. </p>
<p><br/>Harry checks his phone a couple times throughout the movie and Louis’ never seen him do that so frequently. Truthfully, he hates it. It’s selfish and stupid but he wants Harry’s full attention on him and the joined movie watching, not sharing it with whoever he’s texting. Except if it’s family, perhaps. </p>
<p><br/>There’s one moment when Louis thinks <em>is something going to happen, are we going to kiss maybe??</em> when they’re both bantering about something a character has said, eyes squinting as they’re looking at each other while laughing, and there’s not all too much space between them. But Harry just resumes watching and Louis is forced to too in order to not be a creepy weirdo staring at him. </p>
<p><br/>All in all, Louis is disappointed when the 103 minutes are over and Harry gets up to have a wee with the words “Take your time.” Louis’d rather get ready to slide into bed with Harry than get ready to head to his own hotel room. </p>
<p><br/>When Harry returns from the bathroom, Louis is already standing close to the door, shirt rumbled from chilling on the bed and eyes tired. </p>
<p><br/>“You know there’s a breakfast buffet tomorrow, starting at 6?“ Harry checks, drying his hands on his grey trackies, leaving dark spots. </p>
<p><br/>“Yeah, but I honestly don’t plan on showing up at 6.”</p>
<p><br/>Harry grins. ”Of course you wouldn’t.”</p>
<p><br/>Shrugging, Louis smiles back sleepily. ”Not all of us can lead your ambitious, healthy lifestyle, Styles.”</p>
<p><br/>“You’re missing out.”</p>
<p><br/>“Mh, nah.”</p>
<p><br/>They fall back into silence, standing a few feet apart in Harry’s room, close to midnight already. Waiting a couple more seconds, it’s clear Harry doesn’t have anything else to say so Louis gives in. </p>
<p><br/>“Alright, I’ll get going then.”</p>
<p><br/>“Alright. Have a good night. Depending on when you wake up tomorrow, I’ll see you at breakfast. If not, get home safely.”</p>
<p><br/>Louis smiles softly, lips pressed together as he opens the door to step out into the hallway. </p>
<p><br/>“Thanks, have a good night, too.”</p>
<p><br/>The disappointment grows the closer he gets to his own room. What the hell is he doing to himself? </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Originally they were scheduled for another weekend date in London one and a half weeks later, but it’s Louis’ grandparents’ golden wedding anniversary, and he does like Harry, but it’s a bit much to bring him as a plus one to an important family event like that. </p>
<p><br/>So when Louis cancels and it’s obvious that Harry is neither welcome at the wedding anniversary nor able to travel up to Doncaster, they’re rescheduling their date as extensive social media interaction. Which is way easier, but also way more impersonal. </p>
<p><br/>After that, Harry is back in America for some promo gigs, in New York and probably somewhere in California. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next time they’re actually face to face again is the third of February, two days after Harry’s birthday. Occasionally Harry and Louis text. Once, Harry checks in if everything’s okay, then to wish him fun at the wedding anniversary. Louis sends him a couple memes that Harry replies to shortly, and then congratulates him on his birthday. </p>
<p><br/>While Louis wouldn’t mind more contact outside their twitter banter, he knows it’s probably healthier that way. The more he sees Harry in person, the faster he’ll irreversibly fall for him. So the two and a half, almost three weeks apart from Harry are positive for Louis’ relation to reality. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unfortunately, their now planned fake date falls on a Tuesday so Louis’ faced with the struggle of having to get out of internship. He can’t possibly cancel another scheduled meeting with Harry again, but he’s already used all the good excuses on his boss too, so that’s going to be tricky. </p>
<p><br/>In the end, he just goes for the “I’m not feeling well, maybe it’s better I head home already?“ classic after working for three hours and then rushing right to the train to London. </p>
<p><br/>The plans for an outside date in the park or wherever were quickly overthrown when the weather had swayed from slightly cloudly to extremely rainy, so another inside late lunch date it is. For the first time, Louis arrives earlier than Harry. Unsure what to do, he just takes a seat and wastes some time with Subway Surfers. </p>
<p><br/>“Hi,” a voice greets him a couple minutes later and when Louis turns to his right, a smiling, very good looking Harry is hovering above him. </p>
<p><br/>He’s wearing loose pants, striped and from the short look Louis sneaks, a very soft but thick material. His eyes are covered by dark sunglasses, and a hat with a typical deerstalker pattern sits atop his head, probably both to attract less attention. It must be difficult to go out in summer without being recognised, especially when it’s hot outside and everyone is wearing a t-shirt, Harry can’t simply cover up his tattoos. He shouldn’t need to, either. </p>
<p><br/>“Hey,” Louis mumbles and scrambles up to hug Harry. The little peck Harry places on his cheek doesn’t satisfy Louis’ craving for some good make-out session, but it’s better than nothing. </p>
<p><br/>“Did you already order?” Harry sits down across from him. Which is a shame, because this way Louis can look at him, but barely <em>touch</em> him, let alone cuddle up to him like he did at that Rice Guy restaurant back in New York. </p>
<p><br/>“No, wanted to wait for you.“</p>
<p><br/>“All right, I’ll be quick to choose,” Harry says and reaches for the menu, scanning over the options. </p>
<p><br/>“Take your time.”</p>
<p><br/>Of course, Harry opts for the healthiest dish there is, some vegetarian salad. Unfortunately, there’s nothing with even remotely the same level of grease compared to Louis’ usual meals, and he’s not really convinced of the whole falafel, tofu, broccoli soup kind of vibe, so pizza rolls with tuna it is. </p>
<p><br/>“Another food date,” Louis jokes. “I’ll be fat by June.” </p>
<p><br/>Harry just chuckles, shrugging out of his jacket. </p>
<p><br/>“When did you even get back from LA?”</p>
<p><br/>“The day before my birthday,” Harry replies once they’ve ordered and their drinks are already delivered. “Went straight to my mum’s and down here yesterday morning.”</p>
<p><br/>“Busy, busy.”</p>
<p><br/>“Yeah, I guess.” Harry hesitates for a second. “The Brits are next week.“</p>
<p><br/>“Are they?” Louis knows they’re usually mid February, and he’s seen it marked in his calender, but it’s more in the back of his mind. </p>
<p><br/>Harry nods. “Wednesday.”</p>
<p><br/>“Are you nervous about it?” It’s a fair question, with a couple thousand people present, important and talented people, and about four million watching on TV. </p>
<p><br/>“A bit,” Harry admits. He lowers his voice before continuing, making sure no one is listening in on them. “Listen, I like you, but I think it’d be a bit… weird to bring you as a plus one. No offence. And I’d already promised it to my sister…“</p>
<p><br/>“No, no, that’s fine! I totally get it. You don’t need to feel bad about it,” Louis assures him. </p>
<p><br/>“Really?”</p>
<p><br/>“Really. I’m busy anyways.”</p>
<p><br/>He’s really not, but Harry doesn’t need to know that. It’s a good thing Louis didn’t know about the opportunity of tagging along with Harry, but it makes sense that someone as famous as him would get to bring someone. Sitting in the O2 arena at one of those infamous round celebrity tables would’ve topped everything Louis’ ever experienced, seeing as the whole event has a certain festival character, with multiple charts regulars performing. Like his <em>boyfriend</em> Harry Styles. </p>
<p><br/>“Well, I’m glad that’s out of the way then.”</p>
<p>Their food arrives and the conversation quiets down, both of them busy eating. They’re not on a tight schedule today, thankfully, so it’s nice to take some time to properly enjoy their dishes. </p>
<p><br/>The minute they’re finished, two girls come up to their table, visibly nervous and grabbing their phones tightly. </p>
<p><br/>“Hi, terribly sorry to interrupt you. We’re big fans and wanted to ask if we could maybe take photo?” the blonde girl speaks up, barely able to keep eye contact. </p>
<p><br/>If Harry is annoyed, he doesn’t show it at all. He’s used to this, but it’s still impressive. “Sure,” he smiles. </p>
<p><br/>Harry gets up to position himself next to the two girls, careful not to block the way for other customers. </p>
<p><br/>“Uh, I could take the picture?” Louis offers quietly. </p>
<p><br/>“We, uh… can we take a photo with you in it, too? Like, both of you?” the other girl asks. </p>
<p><br/>“You want <em>me</em> in the picture?“ </p>
<p><br/>When both girls nod in affirmation, Louis’ gaze sways to Harry, unsure what to do. Harry looks at him in a serious manner, his eyes boring into Louis’ intensly. </p>
<p><br/>“Only if you want. If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine,” Harry sets straight, giving him an out. </p>
<p><br/>“Of course!” both girls agree quickly. </p>
<p><br/>“Uh… alright, why not.“</p>
<p><br/>They stop a waitress to take the picture, who later on also asks for a photo with Harry alone because her girlfriend’s a fan. </p>
<p><br/>Louis’ glad Harry pulls him close so he’s not awkwardly standing at the side. Harry shoots him a look again, as if to check whether Louis’ really okay with this, and it makes Louis’ heart beat a tad faster. He smiles and nods lightly, assuring him that yes, this is okay and if the waitress captures this moment in a photo as well, it probably looks extra convincing. </p>
<p><br/>With Harry’s arm tightly slung around his waist, Louis barely even focuses on smiling at the camera.</p>
<p><br/>“Now say: Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers!” Harry jokes and it’s goofy and kind of stupid because it doesn’t elicit a natural smile on your lips at all, but Louis can’t help looking up to Harry with what the internet will later on call <em>Louis’ heart eyes</em>. Well, can you blame him?</p>
<p><br/>The girls and the waitress are happy after just a couple pictures, to both Harry’s and Louis’ relief. Before they return to their seats though, Louis places his hands on Harry’s shoulders and kisses him square on the mouth. If someone asked Louis’d say it’s just to wipe out doubts of anyone who might’ve watched the scene from the outside, but it’s also a lot because he wants to kiss Harry. </p>
<p><br/>This time, Harry plays along way more easily, touching Louis’ hips gently and now that he’s not wearing his winter jacket it’s ten percent better at least. Kissing Harry always feels like a 100% jack pot though, anyway. </p>
<p><br/>Louis doesn’t know how good Harry is with PDA like this, and Harry answers his question when he breaks away just a couple seconds later. Understandable, as they’re still in the middle of a public restaurant. </p>
<p><br/>Harry smiles at him, eyes opening earlier than Louis’ once again. How did someone so naturally beautiful get blessed with those special, vibrant green eyes as well? Where’s the flaws in him?</p>
<p><br/>They sit down across from each other again, the empty plates having disappeared from their table in the mean time. </p>
<p><br/>“Where are the paps, by the way? Haven’t seen any yet,” Louis remarks, turning to his right to look outside, searching the street for someone who could possibly be a professional paparazzo. </p>
<p><br/>“Over there at the table. Clara said they want it to look like a coincidental fan taken photo today.” </p>
<p>Harry nods to a table to his left, where a man is sitting and enjoying whatever he’s having, a SLR casually resting on his table and no doubt in an angle to take pictures of them. It’s clever, Louis has to admit. </p>
<p><br/>They stay for another half an hour, catching up on what’s been going on the past couple weeks, especially on Harry’s side, but he also asks about Stan and Oli despite never having met them, which is quite nice. </p>
<p><br/>It comes as a slight surprise to Louis that Harry takes a cab home, until he reminds himself that he’s just a regular human being after all. Maybe he even likes it because it makes him feel normal, who knows. Harry offers to call him a cab as well, but Louis denies, the next tube station not far. He should really get an oyster card or Harry’s team and AB-PR will be broke when the contract’s over. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>After they say their goodbyes - only a small peck on the lips included - the next time Louis sees Harry is actually on his laptop screen, watching the brits a week later. </p>
<p><br/>I’m busy anyway, my arse. Of course he’s watching it. He considers never bringing it up ever, but perhaps it’s strategically a good idea to post about it. To show some support for his boyfriend. </p>
<p><br/>He snaps a picture of Harry performing a relatively new single in front of all these many people, and it’s definitely admirable how well Harry handles his nerves. Louis’d be a shaking mess. </p>
<p><br/>A second photo joins the first one in his Instagram story when host Jack Whitehall wanders around and stops at Harry’s table, talking to him about his performance and Gemma. Thankfully he doesn’t ask about Louis, because no matter his ego, he’d feel so bad for Harry to get asked about his fake-boyfriend on live TV with millions of people watching. </p>
<p><br/>The chances Harry sees Louis’ posts are probably low, an award show night must be busy as heck. Harry doesn’t seem the kind of guy who checks his Instagram every night before bed, either. Maybe he’ll see reposts of Louis’ support, maybe not, Louis doesn’t care. In the end it’d be a bit embarrassing if he did find out that he’s not busy after all, but what’s it to him?</p>
<p><br/>Harry wins best male singer that night, adding to the row of Brits he’s got from the previous years, both solo and with One Direction. He’s nominated for best music video too, but doesn’t win that. Not that he looks too sad about it, because he’s humble like that - thankful for what he’s got, and granting his music industry colleagues their wins too. </p>
<p><br/>Now Louis’ dating an international popstar with what, 8 Brit awards? Pretty amazing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A week and a half later, Louis receives a text from Harry on his way home from internship. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Harry: If you’re free on saturday and able to come down to London, I’m having a little get together at my place!</strong>
</p>
<p><br/>There’s that excited exclamation mark again. Oh how Louis’ missed it. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: I’m free, but it’s not in my calender?</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Harry: That’s because it’s not scheduled</strong>
</p>
<p><br/>So Harrry invited him to a personal get together? Voluntarily? Holy shit. Still, Louis feels the need to make sure Harry knows his rights and duties. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: You know you don’t need to invite me to personal events?</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Harry: I’m aware. Don’t worry. </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: Okay then, count me in.</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: Need me to bring anything?</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Harry: Just your lovely self! </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That’s how Louis finds himself on the train to London once again. Luckily, Harry’s plans fall on a weekend day so Louis doesn’t need to worry about lying to his boss once again. </p>
<p><br/>The train and public transportation connections aren’t the very best because of technical problems or whatever, so it’s almost 9 pm when he arrives, almost two hours later than Harry had invited for. Fashionably late, then. </p>
<p><br/>“Hey, glad you could make it,“ Harry greets him when Louis reaches the door. He still needs to get used to the gate around Harry’s house. </p>
<p><br/>“Thanks for inviting me.”</p>
<p><br/>“Nothing to thank for, come in. You know your way.”</p>
<p><br/>Louis slips out of his shoes and pushes them next to the multiple other pairs that are strewn around Harry’s entry area. He doesn’t even have time to wonder about how many people will be there and whether he knows anyone, because Harry’s already leading them to his living room. </p>
<p><br/>A couple male voices can be heard from the hallway, talking wildly, and Louis thinks at least one sounds familiar, but he’s still shocked when he enters the room. </p>
<p><br/>“Oh, uh … hi.”</p>
<p><br/>Right there in front of him, chilling on the very couch Louis has already napped on, are Niall Horan, Ed Sheeran and a man Louis doesn’t recognise. </p>
<p><br/>It would’ve been nice of Harry to introduce him but apparently he doesn’t even realise how big of a wow the situation is to Louis right now. All three men are turning to face them when they notice him, the unknown man stopping the game of Fifa that’s going on. </p>
<p><br/>“Hi, I’m Louis,” he says as casually as he can manage, waving a little. </p>
<p><br/>“I’m Ed.”</p>
<p><br/>“Julian.”</p>
<p><br/>“I’m Niall, nice to meet you mate. I’ve heard about you!” And wow again, Louis didn’t think he’d ever hear these words from Niall Horan’s mouth. </p>
<p><br/>“Did you have dinner already? We had pizza earlier, and I stored the leftovers in the fridge, if you want some?” Harry points to the general direction of the kitchen. </p>
<p><br/>“Sure, never saying no to pizza,” Louis replies, partly because it’s true and partly because he needs a second to process everything and he’ll take any chance to escape the living room he can get. </p>
<p><br/>“I especially saved some pieces without pepperoni. You don’t like those, right?”</p>
<p><br/>“No, you’re right.“ Louis blushes slightly. </p>
<p><br/>“Like the good boyfriend you are, H,” Ed teases, half distracted by the game they’ve picked up again. </p>
<p><br/>Harry shrugs and turns around to head to the kitchen, leaving Niall’s and Julian’s cackles behind. </p>
<p><br/>“You know that from the food allergy and dislikes form I filled out, didn’t you?” Louis checks when they’re alone in the kitchen. </p>
<p><br/>Fetching the leftovers from his massive fridge, Harry grins at him over his shoulder. “Yup.”</p>
<p>“Knew it.”</p>
<p><br/>“Here you go. Tuna and mushrooms.” </p>
<p><br/>Louis accepts the plate thankfully, the heavenly smell of pizza travelling straight up his nose. </p>
<p><br/>“Can’t believe you health-obsessed bean agreed to pizza,” he teases.</p>
<p><br/>“It was three against one, I had no chance,” Harry turns and opens a cabinet to get a glass. “You want a beer? Or soda?”</p>
<p><br/>“Beer, please and thank you.”</p>
<p><br/>Grabbing a couple more bottles for the other boys as well, Harry is about to leave the kitchen with his arms full when Louis stops him. </p>
<p><br/>“Harry?”</p>
<p><br/>“Yeah?” he halts, shooting him a questioning look. </p>
<p><br/>“I, uh, haven’t booked a hotel for tonight yet. I know it’s kind of presumptuous of me, but can I maybe kip here again?”</p>
<p><br/>It’s only then that Harry notices the ruckbag hanging from his shoulders. “Oh, sure! Sorry, I didn’t think of that earlier.”</p>
<p><br/>“Only if it’s no problem for you though.”</p>
<p><br/>“It really isn’t. I’ll set everything up as soon as the lads are gone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>Back in the living room, Louis fits in better than he’d expected too. Despite three of the four other men present being international popstars, they’re surprisingly down to earth and easy going. Their initiation into the round is a game of Fifa as soon as Louis’ finished his pizza and he actually beats Harry without even trying too hard, so that’s the first step to get on the lads’ good side. </p>
<p><br/>Louis learns that Julian is a song writer and has been very involved in a lot of One Direction’s and Harry’s bangers. </p>
<p><br/>The four of them talk about super mundane things, ranging from recent mishaps in kitchen (Julian and Ed), to rom-coms they’ve watched and liked since the last time they met up (Julian and Harry) and updates on the current golf competition on Sky Sports (only Niall).</p>
<p><br/>Then there’s also the topics that Louis can’t relate to all that much. Their last time at SNL, Niall’s new inredibly high-quality but incredibly expensive guitar, the plans for the next leg of Ed’s seemingly never-ending world tour. </p>
<p><br/>Louis simply opts to stay quiet during those discussions, focusing on his beverage or subtly peering at the new Brit award that has joined the previous ones in the cabinet. </p>
<p><br/>“So what’s it like, dating our Harry here?” Ed addresses Louis after a while, trying to engage him more. </p>
<p><br/>Out of the few options how to react, Louis goes for the classic banter. If the boys are anything like the impression Louis’ formed of them, they’ll understand he doesn’t mean it in an offending way. </p>
<p><br/>“A hardship. I barely get a date without a detox salad right under my nose,” he complains, pressing his lips together as if he’s pitying himself. </p>
<p><br/>“I can imagine,” Ed plays along. “I think he’s watched too much Lazy town when he was a child. Or recently, I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“Did not,” Harry pouts adorably. “That was on TV when I was like, 12 already.”</p>
<p>“And yet you know what he’s talking about,” Julian chimes in, siding against him as well. </p>
<p><br/>“I promis we’re not all like him,” Niall turns to Louis. “It’s basically my life work to feed good old Harold some unhealthy carbohydrates every once in a while.”</p>
<p><br/>“Well, apart from Harry, you all seem very normal. You like beer and Fifa, that’s the main qualifications I look for in my friends anyway.”</p>
<p><br/>“There’s a lad,” Niall cheers and clinks their glasses together. Louis has a clue they’ll get along great. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>The night continues like that and Louis finds he’s enjoying himself just fine. It’s not like they’re drinking excessively, they don’t even get out the strong booze, but after his third beer, Louis’ beginning to feel the effects of it despite having a greasy basis in his stomach. </p>
<p><br/>This way though, he dares to be close to Harry without being absolutely paranoid about someone figuring him out. People do weird stuff when they’re tipsy, and he’ll just use that as an excuse if someone asks. </p>
<p><br/>So when he coincidentally ends up next to Harry with very little space between them, he doesn’t question it. His subconsciousness wants it, so why not give in? The other three boys are busy bawling some song Louis doesn’t recognise or maybe they’re making it up, he doesn’t know.</p>
<p><br/>Very casually, Louis leans back and stretches his arms, not going for the typical yawn but cracking the bones in his neck as well, as if the position he’d been in previously was getting uncomfortable. He places his left arm behind Harry’s shoulders in the process of leaning back and it looks almost professionally subtle, if he may say so himself. </p>
<p><br/>“If you hear this on the radio soon, remember you heard it here first!” Niall shouts, confirming Louis suspicions that they are indeed just freestyling. </p>
<p><br/>“Is that how you usually write your hits?” </p>
<p><br/>“It’s how Sing came to life,“ Ed informs him. </p>
<p><br/>“And Midnight memories,” Harry adds, causing Louis to look to his left where Harry is lounging with one leg propped up on the coffee table, the other on the ground. </p>
<p><br/>Niall nods. “Good old late night jamming with Payno, yeah.” </p>
<p><br/>Julian joins in, bringing up more memorable song writing sessions back with One Direction and it’s better than any extensive tour DVD. Just, Louis can’t really focus on any of the special insight he’s currently offered because the more time passes, the more Harry and him seem to gravitate towards each other.</p>
<p><br/>Maybe he’s imagining it, he thinks, but he’s not imagining it when Harry’s head is resting on his shoulder, Louis’ arm slung around them and actually touching him now.</p>
<p><br/>No one comments on it, not even when Harry actively takes part in the conversation despite the position he’s in, and it makes Louis wonder whether they’re all too busy topping each other with the craziest story they can come up with or whether Harry’s just naturally touchy with his friends and this is not an unusual sight. Deep inside he hopes it’s not the latter. </p>
<p><br/>The boys stay for another two hours after that before Julian gets up and announces he’ll be heading home, encouraging Niall and Ed to follow him suit. </p>
<p><br/>“Where are you headed, Louis? Maybe we can take a cab together?” Julian offers. </p>
<p><br/>“Actually, I’m staying here tonight.”</p>
<p><br/>“Ay, get it!” Niall bellows, waggling his eyebrows. Oh how Louis wishes he was right. </p>
<p><br/>“It’s unnecessary to make him book a room just for tonight. And it’s not like I don’t have the space,” Harry jumps to his defence. </p>
<p><br/>“You didn’t offer me to kip here,” Niall pouts. </p>
<p><br/>Harry shrugs, leading them to the entry area where everyone but Louis gets dressed to face the cold February night air. “All you had to do was ask.“</p>
<p><br/>They say their goodbyes and Louis gets a warm hug from all three of the boys and he’ll definitely have to tell Stan, Oli and his cousin about hugging Ed Sheeran like he’s a mate. They’ll burn with jealousy. Well, at least his cousin. </p>
<p><br/>“Gimme a second to go fetch a towel for you,“ Harry says when the door and outside gate are safely closed. “I kept your toothbrush, too.”</p>
<p><br/><em>He kept my toothbrush.</em> That’s probably the single most stupid thing Louis’ ever dopely smiled about like an idiot. <em>Get a grip, Tomlinson. Nothing’s going to happen tonight. </em></p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Or is it?</em>
</p>
<p><br/>Louis gets the answer to his question when ten minutes later, after setting everything - namely a towel, a toothbrush and a bottle of water - up for Louis, Harry excuses him and wishes him a good night. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>The next morning starts pleasently, with a delicious smell in the air as soon as Luois steps out of the guestroom. To no one’s surprise, Harry’s already busy cooking breakfast, a full english minus the meat plus a variety of colourful fruit cut up and mixed together in one of Harry’s polka dot bowls. </p>
<p><br/>“Morning,“ Louis mumbles to make Harry notice him. </p>
<p><br/>Harry looks over his shoulder, a grin spreading on his face. No one smiles while cooking eggs at nine in the morning after the long night they’ve had. No one except Mr Styles himself, apparently. </p>
<p><br/>“I’m almost done, take a seat.”</p>
<p><br/>Following Harry’s orders, Louis plops down on the chair closest to him. Cutlery, tableware as well as drinks are already neatly arranged on the table and it’s so homey, so <em>Harry</em>. </p>
<p><br/>“Thanks for making breakfast. You didn’t have to, I could’ve grabbed something on my way home.”</p>
<p><br/>“Nonsense, I need to eat too,” Harry smiles as he transfers some eggs from the pan to Louis’ plate.</p>
<p><br/>It’s a matter of exactly two minutes before some baked beans fail to make it into Louis’ mouth, instead landing straight on his white Adidas hoodie. </p>
<p><br/>“Fuck, that’s the only hoodie I have with me,” he curses as he gets up to try and wash the stains out, without success. </p>
<p><br/>“You can borrow one of mine while I pop it in the wash, if you want?”</p>
<p><br/>So that’s how Louis ends up in Harry’s infamous lilac pullover. It feels like meeting a superstar all over again, just that’s a piece of clothing this time. It’s surreal though, he’s seen this on Harry a couple years back, he performed in this jumper once when he was still active with the band. </p>
<p><br/>Louis obviously tries to not show that on his face though, simply accepting it with a muttered thank you. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>He goes to get ready in the bathroom, taking his time before packing his few belongings. As a thank you he offered to do the dishes that don’t go in the dish washer, so he tends to that next. The connection home he decides on leaves him with two spare hours to spend here, hopefully in the same room as Harry. </p>
<p><br/>When he checks his phone to text Stan to meet up later during the day, he realises he barely has enough battery left to make it to the train station before it’ll die. </p>
<p><br/>Louis forgot to ask for a spare charger last night because they were both tipsy and tired and Harry was in bed before Louis had even brushed his teeth. Unfortunately he doesn’t know where Harry currently is, but he’s not about to simply walk into Harry’s master bedroom and steal his charger from the nightstand, so searching for Harry it is. </p>
<p><br/>That’s definitely easier when your house isn’t as big as Harry’s. </p>
<p><br/>“Harry?” he calls out but gets no response. Finally, he finds the door opposite of Harry’s bedroom door closed, indicating that he’s in there. </p>
<p><br/>“Can I maybe borrow your charg-,” Louis starts talking as soon as he’s opened the door, realising way too late what’s going on. </p>
<p><br/>Harry’s doing a live interview on his laptop, with his headphones in so that’s why he didn’t hear Louis calling before. Now that Louis is visible on the screen for everyone to see though, he’s noticed him too, taking out an earphone and asking to repeat himself. </p>
<p><br/>“Oh, uh, sorry,” he stutters, blushing wildly as he watches Roman Kemp from Capital FM obviously commenting on the surprise guest, just that he can’t hear it. “I was just, uh, looking for a phone charger but it can wait.”</p>
<p><br/>“’ve got a power bank here,” Harry replies and produces a portable charger from the drawer to his side. </p>
<p><br/>“Thanks,” Louis mumbles, still red from embarrassment. “And sorry again.”</p>
<p><br/>“No problem, babe,” Harry grins back at him, watching him leave the room before tending to his friend again. <em>Babe.</em></p>
<p><br/>Ten minutes later, Harry’s done with the interview and joins Louis in the living room, explaining that he thought Louis’d take a shower and therefore need more time and that the interview would fit into that time slot. </p>
<p><br/>Needless to say, the internet explodes with<strong><em> Louis sleeps at Harry’s place and they kiss, dont at me</em></strong> and <em><strong>They’re boyfriends who share clothes #domesticbfs. </strong></em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone!<br/>Way quicker update this time, yay!<br/>Enjoy reading :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry’s tour is going to start mid March. Now, with about two weeks to go, with irregular but on average rising temperatures, not only do the many layers of clothing disappear, but also most of the winter girlfriends. Also, the very few boyfriend for the winter rumours Harry and Louis had been accused of. </p><p><br/>
Louis gets called into the London office for an apparently important meeting. It’s been marked in his calender a week in advance so he had some time to come up with a half-decent excuse for internship: a dentist appointment. And then a full waiting room to justify the late arrival. Maybe an x-ray for his wisdom teeth, if his credibility staggers. </p><p><br/>
Once again, he takes the train to London - now even earlier than usually, already awaited at AB-PR at 8am. Louis seriously considers buying a coffee to get pumped on a solid amount of coffeein but decides to stay true to his motto and sticks to his tea. </p><p><br/>
The train almost feels like a second home to Louis. Which is a bit exaggerated, but it’s definitely become a routine. And at this time of the day most regular commuters aren’t able to properly function yet, so the risk of getting recognised as Harry Styles’ boyfriend is lower. </p><p><br/>
When Louis steps out of the lift, he’s approached by his favourite receptionist, who’s probably in the picture with Harry’s case because he treats Louis very kindly, like a proper client. </p><p><br/>
The meeting is held in the big conference room with the brilliant view, but by now Louis suspects all of AB-PR’s rooms allow an amazing view over London. </p><p><br/>
Harry’s team is present when he enters, as well as Harry and Mr Richard. Louis definitely hasn’t missed <em>him</em>. </p><p><br/>
“Good morning, Mr Tomlinson.”</p><p><br/>
“Good morning,” he replies and shakes hands with everyone except for Harry. With him, he exchanges a short but friendly side-hug, under the watchful eyes of Mr Price. </p><p><br/>
“We’re all here today because, as you probably know, Mr Styles is going to start touring soon, starting the seventeenth of this month,” Mr Richards starts off when everyone’s settled in their chairs, neatly positioned around the table. This time, Harry sits exactly opposite of Louis which facilitates eye contact. </p><p><br/>
Louis nods when Mr Richards looks specifically in his direction. </p><p><br/>
“As already briefly covered in the last meeting, physical appearance of yours is required at several points during the tour.”</p><p><br/>
Nodding again, Louis tries to not meet Mr Richards’ eyes. He hates being the only one addressed in a room full of people. </p><p><br/>
“So now the obvious question is, what tour dates will you be joining?“</p><p><br/>
Louis directs his gaze to Harry, who returns it, face unreadable but lips pressed sligthly together. </p><p><br/>
Of course Louis had thought about how they’d solve this. The easiest but uneventful solution would be for Louis to either not see Harry regularly or only when Harry gets to go home in between tour legs. But would a relationship based on seeing each other in tour breaks believable? Probably not. </p><p><br/>
“The tour kicks off in Australia, but we don’t plan on arranging a meeting there seeing as this leg of the tour only lasts roughly one and a half weeks,” Mr Price takes over. “Next Mr Styles is going to tour in Northern America. There we plan to have Mr Tomlinson accompany him for four tour dates, over the time span of about a week.”</p><p><br/>
Four different, most likely big cities considering Harry’s recent popularity, that Louis gets to visit. Excitment bubbles up in him, despite the forced situation. </p><p><br/>
“This is the current plan as of yesterday,” he continues and hands out a piece of paper to Louis, everyone else is already equipped with these information and probably more. </p><p><br/>
“If everything goes accordingly, we plan to have you travel with the crew to Seattle, Sacramento, San José and Los Angeles. The dates are noted as well as the hotel you’ll be staying in and the mean of transportation used.”</p><p>LA. California. Western US. The pacific. <em>Louis might be able to see the pacific ocean</em>. How fucking amazing is that?!</p><p><br/>
He has to swallow as he grabs the paper to check that it indeed says what Mr Price had just explained. He’ll get to travel like a proper popstar for a couple days, see what Harry does backstage before concerts and how they dismantle the stage set-up and everything just to build it up the next day in a new city. </p><p><br/>
And one of the best things about it: Louis doesn’t even have to pay for it. No, he even <em>gets paid</em> to just tag along. </p><p><br/>
“Do you see any obvious issues with this schedule?”</p><p><br/>
After realising that Mrs Sanchez is talking to him, Louis shakes his head no. He can’t think of any events that might fall into that week and honestly, any problem that could arise is probably not even worthy enough for AB-PR to throw over their plan. </p><p><br/>
“As stated in the contract, you may only cancel if you have serious personal emergencies or external influences make it impossible to tour.” It’s Mr Richards who says it and Louis despises the tone he uses. He should talk to his receptionist, maybe he could be taught how to make people feel respected. </p><p><br/>
“So far so good,“ Mrs Sanchez smiles slightly. She hasn’t pushed her glasses up her nose yet and it’s making Louis uneasy for some reason. “Now concerning the European leg of the tour.”</p><p><br/>
Another piece of paper is passed to Louis, a list of the European tour dates printed on it. </p><p><br/>
“With this part of the tour, we’re giving you a bit of a choice here. Please choose four of the listed destinations. The ones in red are not available for selection.”</p><p><br/>
And what? Since when is Louis given <em>choices?</em></p><p><br/>
“Uh,” he makes, overwhelmed with the whole situation. </p><p><br/>
“We’ll give you some time to look over the dates and check which ones collide with personal events,” Mrs Sanchez offers kindly, now finally pushing the glasses up her nose. “Meanwhile, I’d like to talk to Mr Styles and Mr Richards.“</p><p><br/>
While Louis loves choosing things, whether it be food him and his friends are getting, music they’re listening to or what he’s wearing for the day, this is a bit stressful seeing as they’re sort of catching him off guard with no time to mentally prepare himself for this. </p><p><br/>
Switzerland, Germany, Netherlands, Belgium, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Ireland, Italy, he hasn’t been to any of these countries. And even the countries he’s been to - Spain, Scotland, France, they all sound exciting and worth the visit. </p><p><br/>
Norway, Switzerland and one date in Italy and Germany each are ruled out for whatever reason, but he’s still left with an incredibly difficult decision. </p><p><br/>
After a couple minutes, the conversation revolving around Mrs Sanchez and Harry starts to die down, indicating that Louis is to give an answer soon. </p><p><br/>
“Uh, I think I’d like to choose Amsterdam, Stockholm, Madrid and London. Please,” he announces when Mrs Sanchez nods at him. </p><p><br/>
“First or second night London?”</p><p><br/>
“I could be there for either, but first night would be easier because it’s a Saturday.”</p><p><br/>
“All right, then I’ll mark the dates you mentioned. Please check your emails regularly as our team will provide you with more information as soon as possible.”</p><p><br/>
There are a few more short things to be cleared concerning the upcoming tour, then the meeting is declared officially over. Louis is gathering his few things, unsure whether Harry is up for a little talk but Harry’s already approaching him with a smile. </p><p><br/>
“Good choices.”</p><p><br/>
“Huh?”</p><p><br/>
“The cities you chose,” Harry explains, “they’re all good choices, you’ll love them.“</p><p><br/>
“Oh. Well, I’m glad then.”</p><p><br/>
Louis notices Jeff Azoff curiously observing their interaction, but he can’t be bothered. He considers Harry a friend by now, a good one, and they’re allowed to hold some small talk. </p><p><br/>
“Why those four?”</p><p><br/>
“Amsterdam was easy, I went there with the lads last year and I loved it.” In a quieter voice he adds “Also, the concept of weed being completely legal? Mad.”</p><p><br/>
Harry chuckles. “What about the others?“</p><p>“Well, Stockholm I’ve never been to before and your song Stockholm Syndrom got me so convinced,” Louis jokes. “Madrid because of Real, obviously. The only thing that would’ve topped it would’ve been you playing at Santiago Bernabéu Stadium.”</p><p><br/>
“We played at Vicente Calderón Stadium back in 2014.”</p><p><br/>
“Pff please, who cares about Atlético?“ Louis huffs. “No one, that’s who.”</p><p><br/>
“Alright, alright,” Harry laughs, his dimples popping. “And London?“</p><p><br/>
Louis shrugs. “I don’t know? I considered Manchester at first but London is a bit more exotic. I loved the mood there when I last went a couple years ago.”</p><p><br/>
Before Harry can answer, they’re interrupted by Mr Price who’s come closer without them noticing. </p><p><br/>
“Mr Styles, I’m sorry to interrupt you but you’re scheduled for the photo shoot in about two hours. We need to get going.”</p><p><br/>
“Photo shoot?” Louis asks with his eyebrows up, just like the corners of his mouth. </p><p><br/>
“<em>Another man.</em>” </p><p><br/>
Harry sticks his tongue out when Louis waggles his eyebrows suggestively, but really, he’s quite impressed. Not only popstar, role model, actor but also model? How can someone have that many talents?</p><p><br/>
Sadly they already have to say their goodbyes as soon as they step out the lift because apparently Mr Price didn’t joke around and they really are in a hurry. Busy famous life. </p><p><br/>
On the train ride back home, while Louis tries to mentally get in the zone to pretend he just came back from a traumatisingly long dentist’s appointment, he is recognised by a group of three young women. Which is a first. </p><p><br/>
When they ask for a photo, he reluctantly agrees, because why would anyone want a picture with their idol’s boyfriend? Shouldn’t they be jealous of him? Just in time before they return to their seats, he asks them to wait at least a day to post the photos online, if that’s their intention. The last thing he needs is his internship colleagues coincidentally stumbling across pictures of him on the train back from London when he’s supposed to be working. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>One thing Louis hadn’t in depth realised during the meeting actually turned out to be one of the biggest problems: getting special leave at internship. </p><p><br/>
Two of the four European dates happen to fall on weekend dates, so that’d be fine, but the other two are a Thursday and a Tuesday. And then there’s also the whole week he’ll need to take off for the North American leg. No way in hell is his boss going to allow that without a very, very convincing lie. </p><p><br/>
Louis knows he needs to talk to his boss, and soon, because it’s barely a month before he’s going to join Harry on tour. Still, the fear of actually having to voice his inappropriate requests out loud are making him push the inevitable as far away as possible, namely Friday the following week. </p><p><br/>
Normally he tries to avoid his boss and his office whenever he can, but today, he hesitantely knocks on the door shortly before he’s supposed to start lunch break. </p><p><br/>
“Come in,” his boss’ deep timbre sounds from the inside. He’s a very strong minded person, which surely is beneficial considering the field he’s in, but that also means he puts work before everything unless he’s achieved his goals and slacking off is not permitted. He’s got a lot of goals. </p><p><br/>
“Good morning,” Louis mumbles as he steps in and shuts the door behind him. The last time he was in a similar situation was when he was invited to sign the internship contract, all those months ago. Mr Clarke knows that, too.</p><p><br/>
“Good morning, Louis. What leads you here?”</p><p><br/>
“I have a bit of an, uh, issue I would like to talk about.”</p><p><br/>
Mr Clarke musters him through his gold-rimmed glasses for a second before nodding. “Have a seat.”</p><p><br/>
“All right,” Louis pauses for a moment, then finally rushes out what he’s got to say. “I am very much aware that I have already used up my holidays. Now this is where my problem comes in: there’s this very important family holiday next month, my cousin is getting married abroad and my whole family is going… So despite it being absolutely unprofessional of me, I was wondering if maybe we could arrange it somehow so that I am able to join them, too?”</p><p><br/>
After a lot of back and forth, this is what he’s come up with. Family is always a sore spot for people, especially something as romantic as marriage. None of his cousins is getting married, but it in Louis’ opinion, the idea of it sounds realistic. </p><p><br/>
Also, he decided to not bring up the two dates, Amsterdam and Stockholm, where he’d need a day or two off because he’s jetting after his popstar boyfriend to watch him perform in different European cities. He’ll just beg AB-PR to book him night connections so he’ll arrive at internship on time, even if he has to pull an all-nighter both times. </p><p><br/>
Mr Clarke sighing isn’t a good sign. Him taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly is indeed a <em>bad</em> sign. </p><p><br/>
“Louis… that’s actually a thing I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. You can’t keep going like that. Working here obviously isn’t your priority right now - we’ve seen it all online.”</p><p><br/>
<em>His boss has seen news of Louis and Harry dating online. Fuck.</em>
</p><p><br/>
“And as long as your focus isn’t on the work we’re doing here, I don’t think continuing this employment relationship makes much sense.”</p><p><br/>
“What… what do you mean?” Louis stutters. </p><p><br/>
“What I mean is, I think it’s better to end your contract here.”</p><p><br/>
<em>No,</em> is all Louis is able to think. No, the contract is supposed to last until summer, a couple more months, so he has enough time to look for a proper job. </p><p><br/>
“Please don’t-”</p><p><br/>
“I can’t give you more leave of absence than I have already, because quite frankly, that wouldn’t be<br/>
fair on my permanent employees. If you want to work here, your priority has to be the project we’re currently involved in, to constantly improve our organisation and not flying off to visit your boyfriend. Because this is what it’s really about, isn’t it?”</p><p><br/>
And how does Louis reply to that? </p><p><br/>
“It’s really complicated…“ he tries, but he knows he has little chance of success. </p><p><br/>
“I think we’re done here, Louis, I’m sorry. I’ll give you the rest of the day to pack your things.”</p><p><br/>
<em>That’s generous,</em> Louis thinks bitterly. His work place doesn’t hold many personal items, anyways. He wants to scream as he slowly gets up, wants to turn around and scream in Mr Clarke’s face <em>It’s all fake! The whole relationship is fake! Please let me continue working in this hellhole, I’m only pretending to be fucking codependent on my celebrity boyfriend!</em> but he can’t because AB-PR would have his head before the words even left his mouth. </p><p><br/>
There have been aspects of being under a fake-dating contract he didn’t enjoy before, naturally, but this? This has got to be the worst one yet. </p><p><br/>
It doesn’t take long to gather his things and tell his colleagues goodbye. He’ll probably only ever hear from one of them again, if at all. </p><p><br/>
On his way home he texts Stan and Oli. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Louis: just got fired from internship</strong><br/>
<strong>Louis: fuck Harry fuck AB-PR fuck everything</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Thankfully, Stan’s quick to answer, probably on his lunch break right now. As Louis would be. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Stan: oh fuck</strong><br/>
<strong>Stan: what happened?</strong><br/>
<strong>Stan: emergency drink tonight?</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Louis: fucking bet on it</strong><br/>
<strong>Louis: “your priority is on your celebrity boyfriend and not on your work”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, what am I going to do, Stan? I can’t just tell my parents, <em>oh, by the way, I got fired from internship because I’m doing the thing you’ve warned me about all along and continue to fake-date Harry fucking Styles.</em>”</p><p><br/>
“I mean, you’re an adult, there’s not much they could do.”</p><p><br/>
“That’s not the point. The disappointment on their faces will be enough, man.”</p><p><br/>
Stan sighs when Louis lets his head plop down on the table in self-pity, trying to reassure him by resting a hand on his shoulder. Oli hadn’t been able to make it as he was invited to his brother’s birthday party, but he apologised profusedly and told Louis he could text him anytime. </p><p><br/>
“What am I going to put on my CV? Kicked out three months early, but please hire me because I promise it was only because I was under a secret contract?” Louis mumbles where he’s hiding his face between his folded arms. The table he’s leaning on is sticky from all the beer and harder liquor people have spilled on it over the course of the last couple hours, but Louis doesn’t care. He’s got bigger problems than that right now. </p><p><br/>
“Can’t you do anything against them? Like, you signed a proper internship contract, they can’t simply kick you out like that, can they?”</p><p><br/>
Louis really appreciates Stan trying to find a loophole, but they both know it’s fairly fruitless. </p><p>“No I can’t, because one, they’ll always have the upper hand, but also, it says in the contract that the employment relationship can be cut short if one or both parties don’t fulfil the agreements. So Mr Clarke will argue that that’s the case here.”</p><p><br/>
“That sucks, man.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah,” Louis mutters emotionlessly. He’s not even pissed at Mr Clarke - okay maybe he is that too - but in the end, it’s a reasonable decision on his side. If Louis were the boss, he’d probably act similarly. He is pissed at AB-PR though, and a bit at himself for deciding to go through with this. </p><p><br/>
“I should’ve known it would turn out like this.”</p><p><br/>
“You couldn’t have. But on the positive side, at least you don’t need to worry about travelling now.”</p><p><br/>
Louis shoots him a dangerously annoyed look. “Nice. At least that,” he hisses sarcastically. </p><p><br/>
The ranting continues for a couple more hours, and Stan lets Louis decide when he’s done venting and drinking. Neither of them have to get up early in the morning, Stan because it’s Saturday and Louis because he’s officially unemployed now. Stan is staying at his parents’ house for the weekend but follows up his best friend duties first and escorts Louis home. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Which turns out to be an issue the next morning. Because apparently some nosy idiot of a fan snapped one or multiple pictures of Louis and Stan together throughout the night and now claims she observed Louis cheating on his boyfriend. </p><p><br/>
Or that’s what Louis gathers from the very annoyed phone call he gets way too early, effectively tearing him from his well-deserved sleep. They want him in the Manchester office as soon as possible, even threatening to have a car come get him if he can’t make it by public transportation until a certain time. </p><p><br/>
“And make sure to be dressed appropriately for a pap-walk,” Mr Price had said on the phone, so the mission is fairly clear. </p><p><br/>
Louis rushes out the house, his parents not even awake. That’s a rare occurance, him coming home after his parents go to bed and leaving again before they’re up. </p><p><br/>
Mentally, he’s fully prepared to receive a blatant telling-off for his <em>reckless</em> behaviour last night, but when he checks his social media on the train to Manchester, he is quite … surprised. And not necessarily in a good way. </p><p><br/>
Harry went to a bar with some friends and members of his band last night. A<em> gay bar</em>. And he looks more than friendly with who Louis suspects is the previously mentioned Xander, both of them close in multiple pictures.</p><p><br/>
So the cheating rumours are <em>two-sided</em>. Well, it is kind of an unlucky coincidence that both Harry and Louis did something to stir those rumours the same night, and he can see why AB-PR and Harry’s team react allergic to that. Still, there has been absolutely no cheating involved on Louis’ side at any point and he’ll state as much. Harry is a different story though. </p><p> </p><p>When Louis enters the AB-PR Manchester office, the receptionist isn’t present. Not that Louis minds. Instead, Mrs Sanchez is waiting for him and leads him to the room next to Stan’s office, which is about double the size. Not that they need it, because the only people present are Mr Price, Mrs Sanchez, Mrs Kapoor and Harry. </p><p><br/>
“Morning,” Louis mutters as he takes a seat. </p><p><br/>
Mr Price doesn’t beat around the bush. In as few words as necessary he summarises the situation and explains what next steps they’re going to take, namely a pap-walk.</p><p><br/>
“We expect that you engage in an authentic looking kiss, as the audience is already used to that kind of content.”</p><p><br/>
So now Louis is actively forced to kiss Harry, nice. Normally he wouldn’t mind at all, but considering everything that’s happend in the past 24 hours, he’s kind of not really in the right head space and mood for it. </p><p><br/>
Well, it’s not like he has a choice or can throw a fit, so he just follows everyone outside and lets himself be driven to the spot Harry’s team picked out for a pap-walk. The hired pap is sitting inside a cafe near them, his camera resting on the table. Apparently they’re going for the not-taken-by-a-pap-vibe again. </p><p><br/>
They’re encouraged (strongly instructed) to stroll down the street and look happy, which is a hardship for Louis to fake right now. They don’t even really talk, except for Harry asking whether Louis is okay with holding his hand, which he is. </p><p><br/>
And Louis appreciates the effort, but he wishes Harry would ask because he’s intrinsically interested in Louis being comfortable holding his boyfriend’s hand, not because he knows it’ll be all over the internet in a matter of minutes. </p><p><br/>
They continue walking for a couple minutes, engaging in small talk at most, before Louis finally decides it’s a good time for the kiss. </p><p><br/>
It’s not the same as the last times. Sure, no kiss is like the other, and Harry doesn’t do anything wrong, but maybe Louis just isn’t into it this time. They kiss for a while, not excessively long but enough to make it realistic for a real couple, this time with Louis hands loosely around Harry’s hip and Harry’s hands on his cheeks. Harry dives in for another short peck after breaking apart, and then it’s over already. Very anticlimatic but hopefully enough to satisfy Harry’s team, AB-PR and everyone doubting their relationship. </p><p><br/>
Harry smiles at him, the smile not quite reaching his eyes but still genuine. He looks tired, probably not having gotten much sleep either, seeing as he had to drive up to Manchester already. “That should do the job.”</p><p><br/>
Because yeah, that’s what it is after all. A job. </p><p><br/>
“Yeah, well, maybe try to keep the cheating rumours down in the future, I don’t wanna have to do this every other week,” Louis says and storms off, to no avail. Five minutes later he finds himself in the backseat of a car, with Harry accompanying him on the drive back to Doncaster for whatever reason. </p><p><br/>
For the first half of the drive, Harry is busy talking to Mr Price, who’s in the front seat. The iHeart Radio music awards are next week, Louis learns, but Harry isn’t able to go because he’ll be performing in Brisbane that day.</p><p><br/>
“What’s your mood about?” Harry suddenly asks, his tone light. </p><p><br/>
“Nothing,” Louis replies but keeps staring out of the window. </p><p><br/>
“No really, what’s up?”</p><p><br/>
And Harry wants to hear it, so he gets to hear it. Unfolding his arms, Louis turns to face Harry. </p><p><br/>
“I’m not cheating. Stan is my friend and they know that! He literally <em>works</em> for AB-PR!”</p><p><br/>
Harry looks at him slightly puzzled. Louis hopes Mr Price isn’t listening in, but really who cares, he probably already knows what Louis thinks about him. </p><p><br/>
“So what? It’s just rumours, they happen every day. Don’t let them get to you, it’s not worth it.”</p><p><br/>
It’d probably be clever to try and think like Harry, to just let it go, but Louis can’t. He shakes his head stubbornly. </p><p><br/>
“I don’t let the rags accuse me of cheating. I don’t know what <em>you’re</em> doing but <em>I’m</em> just trying to live a normal life.”</p><p><br/>
“Is your undertone supposed to suggest that <em>I’m</em> cheating on <em>you</em>?” Harry asks, now slightly less cheery, supporting the word <em>cheating</em> with hand quotation marks. </p><p><br/>
“I don’t fucking know what you do, but please try to think of me too. I won’t ever get my face off the internet again!”</p><p><br/>
Harry huffs humourlessly. “Me neither, in case you haven’t noticed yet.”</p><p><br/>
“But you chose this!”</p><p><br/>
“So did you!” Harry fires back. “I don’t know what to tell you, you didn’t have to do it. No one forced you to sign the contract.”</p><p><br/>
“True,” Louis admits pettily. “But at least I’m trying my very best.” Then, for good measure and to make Harry feel guilty, he adds, “I got fired from my internship because your fucking team wants me in America for a whole week.”</p><p><br/>
At that, Harry looks at him with a pitying look, obviously not being aware of the fact that Louis got fired. How should he anyways? Louis hasn’t told anyone but Stan and Oli yet. </p><p><br/>
“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely. “But if you knew beforehand that your internship was important, you shouldn’t have taken the job.”</p><p><br/>
There it is again. The <em>job.</em> Louis could cry with how worked up he is, how angry at AB-PR and Harry and Mr Clarke and himself. A lot at Harry, though. </p><p><br/>
“That’s what you see this as, a job, right?” he spits out. </p><p><br/>
Harry’s facial expressions are unreadable as he answers. “Is it something else for you?”</p><p><br/>
Louis has never been good with impulse control, so it doesn’t surprise him when he screams at the driver to let him out at the nearest stop possible without giving it a second thought. The driver looks unsure what to do, his gaze keeps swaying to Mr Price as if he awaits orders from him, but in the end Louis is a free man and if he wants to leave the car, he’s allowed to. </p><p><br/>
Unfortunately, Louis can’t just jump out of the moving car, with them currently speeding down the M62 with no stop in sight for a couple miles. </p><p><br/>
“Don’t be ridiculous.”</p><p><br/>
With an angry glare, Louis turns back to the problem that is Harry Styles right now. He knows he’s being difficult, but Harry isn’t much better. </p><p><br/>
“You know nothing and you don’t get to tell me I’m being ridiculous. My whole existence right now is only “Harry Styles’ boyfriend“ and I don’t know about your exes or whoever you’re currently hooking up with, but that’s not enough for me. I’m different!”</p><p><br/>
A motorway service station comes into sight and Louis can’t wait to get the fuck out of the car. He hasn’t thought about how he’s going to get home yet, but Huddersfield isn’t the worst place to get stuck at.</p><p><br/>
“Are you jealous or what?”</p><p><br/>
As soon as the car comes to a halt, Louis exits and slams the door. “Fuck you, Harry.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Harry’s flight for Australia heads off two days later and until then, there’s complete radio silence between the two of them. And while that itself isn’t necessarily uncommon, it still feels charged now. </p><p><br/>
The pap pictures turn out well, but sadly barely do anything to make up for the cheating rumours. The fact that some girl coincidentally saw Louis causing a scene at the Burger King parking lot and screaming at Harry to fuck himself didn’t help. All in all, Harry’s team is quite busy trying to set everything right that they’ve been fucking up recently. </p><p> </p><p>The night before Harry first performs in Sydney, Louis texts him good luck. It’s his tour kick off after all, and despite their tense relationship right now, he’d feel bad just ignoring that. Harry must be nervous as hell anyways. And maybe a step in a good, mature direction doesn’t hurt either, now that he’s calmed down a tad bit. </p><p><br/>
Harry’s reply is short, mostly just acknowleding that Louis texted at all instead of trying to convey actual content. It’s better than nothing. </p><p><br/>
<strong>“I like your album btw,”</strong> Louis adds when he’s sure the conversation is done on Harry’s part, referencing to yesterday’s album’s release date. It’s been a full success, internationally and in Louis’ eyes. <br/>
<strong>“Thanks,”</strong> is all he gets in return. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Later the following week, Oli and Louis join Stan for some post-work dinner in Manchester. It took some organising, especially with Oli working in Worksop. At least Louis is flexible now. </p><p><br/>
“And what did your parents say?” Oli questions as they’re all digging into their meals. </p><p><br/>
“They were cross, of course,” Louis speaks around the chips he’s chewing. “Can’t understand my decision and all that. And the worst part is, I can’t even blame them because they’re right.”</p><p><br/>
“Maybe we should focus on the good aspects more than on the bad ones,“ Stan suggests. “Like, a whole week of touring in America? That’s pretty lit.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah, I guess.”</p><p><br/>
“And then Europe, too,” Oli adds.</p><p><br/>
Sighing, Louis lowers his fork. “It’s not that I’m not excited for these things, because I am. It’s just… ugh, I don’t even know.”</p><p><br/>
After that, it seems that both Stan and Oli strategically try to change the topic to something more enjoyable. Newcastle’s latest win over Southampton, the new Marvel movie in the cinema, the news that yet another friend of their loose lad squad is getting married. </p><p><br/>
They agree on ordering a last round of pints after finishing their meals, the easy chatter continuing until two girls and a boy, all probably not even in their twenties, approach their table. </p><p><br/>
“Can we help you?“ Stan asks politely but direct, a bit unnerved by their presence. </p><p><br/>
“Hi!” one of the girls says, not even apologising for disturbing them. “You’re Louis, aren’t you? The Louis Harry has been seen with lately?” She says it as if she knows Harry personally. Louis’ pretty sure she doesn’t. </p><p><br/>
“Yeah,” he nods curtly, not wanting to give them the impression that he’s up for some extensive conversation with them. </p><p><br/>
“Are you guys dating?” the other girl pipes up. </p><p><br/>
“Harry and I?”</p><p><br/>
“No, you two,” she clarifies, pointing between Stan and Louis. </p><p><br/>
“No we’re not.”</p><p><br/>
“We’re just friends. Louis would be the last person to cheat on Harry, believe me,” Stan jumps to his help. Not that he needs it. Those prying teenagers need to find some real hobbies and stop molesting him, and especially Harry. </p><p><br/>
“So you <em>are</em> dating Harry?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah.”</p><p><br/>
“They are,” Oli confirms, barely even catching the group’s attention. </p><p><br/>
“It’s complicated,” Louis mumbles, feeling a bit petty and definitely ready to get the fuck out of here to get some peace, and out of everything she could’ve put online, the girl tweets that quote. </p><p> </p><p>AB-PR doesn’t see too much off the retweets and reposts online or they don’t deem it worthy taking care of compared to the other stuff Harry and Louis have pulled recently, but Harry does react to it. That evening, Louis receives a text from him.</p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry: “It’s complicated”? really?</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Louis sighs. What the fuck is the right way to reply to that? Obviously Harry isn’t happy that Louis saying that went sort of viral. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Louis: what do you want?</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry: Nothing, just kindly reminding you of the contract you signed.</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Deep inside, Louis never thought Harry’s messages could sound this cold. Even Harry’s voice reading aloud in his head sounds pissed off and distant. </p><p><br/>
And he knows that Harry is right, too. Louis ignored two calls from AB-PR over the course of the last couple days and that’s probably going to bite his arse at the next meeting, but he just wasn’t in the mood to talk to any of them, not even Mrs Sanchez. His mental health is important too. </p><p><br/>
<strong>Louis: I know, that’s why I’m flying to see my dear boyfriend in two days</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Harry: have a good flight</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Turns out, Louis isn’t even flying straight to Seattle but to Vancouver first because that’s where he’s joining Harry and the team. He is driven to London, which is already exhausting because he’s alone and he can’t seem to relax no matter how hard he tries, which in return stresses him out even more. A vicious circle. </p><p><br/>
AB-PR booked him a nonstop connection from Heathrow to YVR Vancouver, but boarding isn’t for another two and a half hours, so waiting it is once again. Usually Louis can appreciate the airport aura, strolling past way too expensive shops like BOSS, Burberry or Chanel, but right now can’t wait for the speaker to announce his flight. He pops into the duty free area to pick up some candy for his nerves. </p><p><br/>
The flight is going to be 9.5 hours, the longest Louis has ever flown for. Needless to say, he’s a bit nervous. Before he boards he checks his phone a last time, but there’s no message from anyone but his worried mum and Stan wishing him a good flight.</p><p><br/>
It mostly is, too. This time there’s no annoying lady with a tiny bladder sitting next to him and luckily he’s sitting at the passage so he can stretch at least his left leg a little. </p><p><br/>
Altogether, it’s endurable but nothing more. After four hours with next to no chance of getting up other than the emergency bathroom trip due to recurring turbulences, his bum starts hurting and then his thighs and feet and back and neck and nothing helps. He tries sleeping, which only makes his neck hurt more when he can’t find a comfortable position, then he tries watching <em>How to get away with murder</em> on the little screen in front of him, which makes him squeasy after the third episode. </p><p><br/>
So when he arrives at Vancouver airport, he’s cranky, and rightfully so. It’s a quarter to six in the morning local time and he feels like he’ll never adjust to any time zone ever again. </p><p><br/>
Louis’ supposed to meet up with Harry and the part of the crew that flies, but he can’t immediately find them when he wanders through the arriving area after picking up his suit case. When he sees the group of about eight people, he’s actually surprised to see Harry among them. He doesn’t know what he expected, maybe that Harry would fuck off to his private jet in order to not be recognised at the airport, or something. </p><p><br/>
On the other hand, it’s not even six, and most people present are either travelling for business, not Harry’s target group or half asleep. </p><p><br/>
“Good morning in the morning,” Louis is welcomed with. </p><p><br/>
“Is it morning? Time has no meaning to me anymore,” he jokes tiredly, barely able to keep his eyes open. </p><p><br/>
Four of the people travelling with them turn out to be Harry’s band, Mitch, Adam, Sarah and Clare. Louis also recognises Rico, one of Harry’s bodyguards, but the other people he can only guess. </p><p><br/>
“Welcome to Canada,” Harry smiles cautiously at Louis as he navigates his way closer to him. </p><p><br/>
“We’re literally leaving in an hour.”</p><p><br/>
“Still,” Harry says, starring at nothing in the distance. They stay quiet after that, Louis sitting on his suffering suit case with his eyes closed until they’re ushered to board the plane. </p><p><br/>
Of course they’re flying business and of course they’re booked for the double business seats and of course everyone distributes so that the only empty seat is next to Harry. A jackpot for everyone else, a struggle for Louis right now. </p><p><br/>
Despite being super tired, Louis attempts to follow the safety instructions attentively. Maybe it’s also a good excuse to not focus on the awkward tension between Harry and him right now. </p><p><br/>
“I feel kind of bad for flying so much today,” Louis tries to ease into small talk with Harry once they’re about to head off. “Especially now, travelling in business class.”</p><p><br/>
“I tried to convince them to book us economy but apparently it was already booked out.”</p><p><br/>
Louis nods, trying to get comfortable in his seat. They’re only going to be in the air for an hour, which makes flying even more unnecessary and contributes to Louis’ guilty conscience, but now that he’s already at it he can just as well try and get some sleep. Even if that fucks up his sleep rhythm completely. </p><p><br/>
Harry to his left doesn’t look tired in the slightest though, he doesn’t even have dark bags under his eyes or ruffled hair. Hell, he’s not even wearing joggers. </p><p><br/>
For a moment, Louis watches Harry, who’s staring out of the window right now like he hasn’t seen the view dozens of times already. Harry seems to sense the eyes on him and turns to face him, an insecure smile flickering across his face. </p><p><br/>
“Everything okay?”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah,” Louis hesitates for a second and sighs. “Listen, can we talk?”</p><p><br/>
Harry’s face remains neutral, the only hint that he’s affected by the whole situation being his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. “Tomorrow.”</p><p><br/>
Before Louis can nod disappointedly or talk back, he adds “You must be tired. Sleep for a bit.”</p><p><br/>
So that’s what Louis does. He leans back and gives in instead of fighting the sleepiness and it’s probably only a matter of seconds before he’s in Morpheus’ arms. Waking up is a different story though. He feels drowsy as hell when Harry nudges his shoulder not even 45 minutes later, his orientation completely thrown off. </p><p><br/>
“Ugh,” he makes and Harry chuckles sympathatically. How can he be so okay with early mornings?</p><p><br/>
“You up?” Harry checks when Louis shows no sign of moving despite everyone around them getting ready to exit the plane. </p><p><br/>
“Noo.”</p><p><br/>
“Come on, you can sleep at the hotel. Way more comfortable.”</p><p><br/>
Louis only notices that Harry isn’t just carrying his own ruckbag but his too when they’re already off the plane. He barely registers the whole checking out and picking up luggage process and the drive to the hotel isn’t long, but Louis falls asleep again the second he’s seated. </p><p><br/>
In hindsight Louis wishes he’d forced himself to stay awake because he doesn’t get to see too much of Seattle and he used to love <em>Grey’s anatomy</em>. </p><p><br/>
At the hotel, the check-in is quick and smoothe, and when they’re handed key cards, Harry accepts Louis’ too. Guiding him up to his hotel room, Harry makes sure Louis takes all the right turns and actually does arrive at his room. </p><p><br/>
“You know, logically speaking it’d be better for you to stay awake all day and then go to bed at a reasonable time. You’d have less jet lag tomorrow,” Harry remarks as he opens the door to Louis’ room.</p><p><br/>
“I appreciate the effort,” Louis yawns, “but I don’t give a fuck about logic. See you in 7 to 8 hours.”</p><p><br/>
Harry’s chuckles are the last thing Louis hears before closing the door and falling straight into bed. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The next day isn’t as exciting as Louis had hoped it’d be, which is also his own fault because he sleeps until 3 in the afternoon and therefore misses most of the concert set-up and preparing process. He swears to himself to get his ridiculous need for sleep under control - it’s not everyday you get to tag along to a whole proper tour and he’ll use the chance he gets. </p><p><br/>
Waiting for a concert to start is a very similar feeling in many aspects even when you’re chilling backstage. It’s going to be Louis’ first concert in more than a year and his first Harry concert on top of that. Maybe it’s ridiculous to get jittery about it, but he can’t help it. </p><p><br/>
As it turns out, the other three men who were travelling them are Harry’s supporting act. Louis’ never heard of them before, but they’re nice enough and he enjoys some banter with them at the catering area before their soundcheck. </p><p><br/>
Louis decides he doesn’t want to see Harry’s soundcheck because he wants his first concert experience here to be Harry’s actual concert. It’s audible backstage anyway, but that’s a different thing. </p><p><br/>
It’s a bit tragic he only gets to see the concert from the VIP boxes, but he obviously can’t stand front row between all the screaming girls who, with a 96% possibility, know who he is and who he is to Harry. Still, VIP boxes are a special experience too, so he won’t complain too much. </p><p><br/>
Unsurprisingly, the mood is amazing even before Harry enters the stage and the crowd holds up rainbow lights at a certain song and it’s pretty magical to see. Louis wonders what it must feel like, to stand up there on stage and realise <em>shit, all these people are here to see me and they support my music and who I am and I’m even famous enough to have a supporting act wow.</em></p><p><br/>
“I’m happy to see you all here tonight, I hope you’re all having a good night so far,“ Harry addresses the audience, receiving loud cheering as a response. “Tonight is a bit of a special night for me too, because a special someone is here with me for the first time and I hope he enjoys it.”</p><p><br/>
Louis didn’t know Harry was going to drop that, he didn’t even know if he was obliged to do so, but it’s a good move nonetheless. Harry must feel bad for lying to his fans to some extent, Louis thinks, but after all, that’s what he’s been doing all time long. </p><p><br/>
The crowd goes crazy at that and some people are even frantically checking the fans around them to see if they can spot Louis somewhere. </p><p><br/>
All in all, it’s a good night, an incredible concert both musically and entertainment-wise and Louis wishes the serotonin high would last a little longer but shortly after Harry steps off stage they’re already ushered outside. They can’t allow to be held up by the traffic that comes with fans streaming out of the arena as they have to catch a flight to Sacramento. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The whole procedure goes similar to the day before, except that Louis’ now sitting alone and closest to Clare, Harry a few seats behind him. Also, the flight is double the length, about two hours, and Louis is wide awake thanks to sleeping virtually all day. </p><p><br/>
One thing Harry and Louis still haven’t gotten a proper chance to do is talk, as Harry had promised yesterday. Louis hopes the next days won’t be as busy, and he might actually get lucky with that as Harry has a spare day following before he’s scheduled for the concert in Sacramento. </p><p><br/>
They’re the latest flight to arrive at SMF airport and accordingly deserted is their way out. </p><p><br/>
“Are you going to sleep in till sunset again?” Harry teases as he plops down next to Louis in the taxi. </p><p><br/>
“Till midnight, actually.”</p><p><br/>
Harry laughs quietly. “You’ll never go back to a healthy sleep rhythm again.”</p><p><br/>
“Triple espresso and I’m back to life.” </p><p><br/>
“That I wanna see,” Harry smiles sleepily. Understandably, after throwing a whole ass concert he’s allowed to be exhausted. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Louis’ kind of excited about the next day of free time when he lies in bed that night. He’s got nothing planned yet, but he’s sure he’ll find something to do in freaking Sacramento. Maybe he’ll just go out and explore on his own, like a proper tourist. But first, he’ll get a restful night’s sleep. </p><p><br/>
All those thoughts are nice, but are torn apart at the core when shortly after 9 in the morning, there’s a relentless knocking, <em>banging</em>, on his hotel door. At first, Louis isn’t certain it’s even his door, or maybe it’s a dream. Maybe someone next door knocked something over. </p><p><br/>
But the noises don’t let up, so after a couple more second, he forces himself out of bed. Groaning, he gets up and pops the bones in his back and neck as he stretches. </p><p><br/>
More banging on the door. “<em>I’m coming,</em>” he hisses. He wishes he were, too. There go his dreams, hopes and expectations of a lazy morning wank in bed.</p><p><br/>
Without checking himself in the mirror too closely, he shuffles to the door, rubbing his eyes. He’s mildly surprised at who he sees standing in front of him when he finally opens it. </p><p><br/>
“Harry?”</p><p><br/>
“Good morning,” Harry smiles at him with deep dimples. He already looks so fit and put together despite not having more sleep than Louis, his freshly washed hair hanging in ringlets, his shirt with a flowery pattern exposing some tattoos on his chest. Still drowsy from just waking up, it takes a lot in Louis not to stare. </p><p><br/>
“What are you doing here?“</p><p><br/>
“Waking you up, as it seems,” Harry gives him a once-over. </p><p><br/>
“Time’s it?” Louis stiffles a yawn. </p><p><br/>
“Quarter past nine,” Harry replies, then starts grinning even wider. “Wanna come on an adventure?”</p><p><br/>
Cocking an eyebrow, Louis leans against the door frame. “Define adventure.”</p><p><br/>
“It wouldn’t be a proper adventure if I told you.”</p><p><br/>
“I think you’re confusing adventure with surprise here.”</p><p>Harry shrugs unbothered. “Are you coming or not?”</p><p><br/>
Louis purses his lips, pretending to think about it. “If you insist.”</p><p><br/>
“I do,” Harry beams. </p><p><br/>
“All right. Give me a few minutes though, I literally just woke up,” he gestures to his pyjamas. </p><p><br/>
“Sure. I’ll meet you downstairs in the lobby when you’re ready.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The adventure turns out to be the Crocker art museum. Which isn’t something Louis would usually frequent, but he’s an open-minded man and follows Harry inside without a complaint. Inside they find a myriad of art works - american, european, native. Ceramics, paper works, photography, on canvas. </p><p><br/>
Harry’s definitely more of an art lover than Louis, but he can still admire the immense talent some people put to use. They seem to have caught a good day, or maybe it’s just relatively empty because it’s a Tuesday morning outside of school holidays. When Harry paid for the two of them, the lady at the reception recognised him but smiled through her excitment and granted them the privacy Louis wishes Harry would get more often. </p><p><br/>
In the end, Louis has to be honest to himself: he focuses more on Harry than on the art. And he’s not even sorry about it. </p><p><br/>
Harry’s a looker anyway, and it’s unbelievably adorable how much he he’s completely taken up in admiring the art pieces hung up on the wall. Passion makes people more attractive, no doubt. </p><p><br/>
At some point, Harry must notice because Louis isn’t subtle at all. Whenever Harry rambles about how the impresssionistic-style acrylic painting is reminding him of his visit in Scotland despite it depicting a completely different landscape, Louis can’t keep himself from smiling so wide his eyes crinkle. There’s literally no way anyone misses Louis’ fonding. Thankfully though, Harry doesn’t comment on it, just smiles back whenever he catches Louis staring. </p><p><br/>
They stay for a little over two hours, taking their time before both agreeing that they’re ready for lunch, with Harry having had an early breakfast and Louis barely anything at all. Harry’s been to Sacramento before, but only to perform so he doesn’t know his way around either, but they let maps guide them to a local little restaurant not far from the museum. The walk there is comfortable, the sun shining down on them warmly but not too hot. </p><p><br/>
The restaurant is deemed good enough after a quick check of the menu and they find a table in a far hidden booth, ensuring that it’s unlikely they’ll be discovered. Not that they desperately want to hide, but it’s an unspoken agreement between them to talk some things out as soon as possible, and this lunch date poses a good opporunity. </p><p><br/>
“I want to apologise,” Louis starts without context. </p><p><br/>
“Me too.”</p><p><br/>
Shaking his head, Louis sighs. “You don’t even really need to apologise though. Sure, we both caused cheating rumours, but I was the one who was unreasonable and overreacted. And that I want to say sorry for. I had a really bad day, with getting fired from internship and everything.”</p><p><br/>
“Accepted.”</p><p><br/>
“I feel like it shouldn’t be this easy.”</p><p><br/>
Harry chuckles and they accept the drinks the waiter delivers. “Why make it harder than it needs to be? I understand your perspective and I understand it’s not an easy situation for you. But I don’t want to ruin your time here just because you voiced your struggles once, even if it wasn’t fully appropriate. Enjoy this week, it’s like payed holiday.”</p><p><br/>
Sometimes Louis can’t believe how good of a person Harry is, so he tells him. “You’re too good for your own good.”</p><p><br/>
“I’m really not, there’s always room to improve.”</p><p><br/>
“That’s something a good person would say.”</p><p><br/>
The food is delicious and they munch on it without talking much. Louis feels bad for keeping Harry from exploring more of Sacramento when they stay long after they’ve finished and paid, but Harry assures him that it’s fine, he likes the chill time and has planned to meet some friends tonight anyway. Louis’ definitely isn’t jealous at the prospect of that. Because who knows who’s included in those<em> friends?</em></p><p><br/>
Later, when they part ways at the hotel, Harry on the mission to get ready for his dinner agreement, Louis has to actively refrain from asking if the person from Skype or Xander or anyone else he has to be worried about is going to be there too. But that would be inappropriate and obsessive and intrusive and probably also very surprising for Harry. </p><p><br/>
<em>"Are you jealous or what?"</em> Harry words from back in the Burger King parking lot sometimes echo in Louis’ head. Like, why would he jump to that conclusion? Part of it isn’t even too far of, to be honest, but would he consider the possibility of Louis being jealous if he’s never thought of the idea of Harry and Louis <em>actually</em> together before?</p><p><br/>
So yeah, it’s difficult and makes Louis wreck his brain. He doesn’t want to get carried away and let himself imagine something that’s never going to happen, but if there’s only the slightest chance of Harry and him becoming something … more, wouldn’t he be stupid to not prod at that and nudge Harry in the right direction?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>While Harry is out and about, Louis has the evening off to deal with his jetlag. Time zones are a bit of a bitch, especially the 8 hours between Sacramento and UTC making it difficult to phone home. </p><p>He waits until ten at night before he calls Stan, effectively waking him up. </p><p><br/>
“Duuude, wha’ do y’want? ’s six in the fuckin’ mornin’,” Stan mumbles into his phone. </p><p><br/>
“You have to be up in half an hour for work anyway.”</p><p><br/>
“That’s half an hour of sleep difference though!”</p><p><br/>
“Well yeah, suck it up, Stanley.”</p><p><br/>
Stan sighs and Louis can hear him rolling around in his bed. “So what’s up? More cheating rumours?”</p><p><br/>
“Nah. Not yet, at least.”</p><p><br/>
“Alright…” Stan draws out. “What’s up then?”</p><p><br/>
“Ugh I don’t know,” Louis exhales. “Harry is out with some friends right now and I think there might be something going on with one of them.”</p><p><br/>
“And you’re … jealous?”</p><p><br/>
Louis huffs but doesn’t verbally answer. He’s currently sitting on his hotel bed and can see himself in the mirror hanging at the opposite wall and he hates the pitiful creature he sees there. Tousled hair, baggy old shirt and the phone pressed to his ear, whining about a boy he’s falling for. </p><p><br/>
“Maybe you should talk to him about it,” Stan suggests. </p><p><br/>
“And tell him what? <em>Hey sorry, can you maybe not hook up with one of your friends because whey, turns out I’m not only under a contract but also romantically interested in you?</em>”</p><p><br/>
Judging from the noises coming from Stan’s side of the line, he’s now up and has put Louis on speakerphone. </p><p><br/>
“Maybe not like that. Just casually approach him about the guy you think he’s got something going on with. In the end it’s your right to know if he’s committed, you both signed a contract. I don’t even think it’s allowed on his part.”</p><p><br/>
“I’m not going to snitch on him,” Louis declares. No matter how much he’d hate that, he’d want Harry to be happy. If it were the other way around, he’d wish for the same. </p><p><br/>
“I’m not asking you to. I’m just saying it’d be good to know what his relationship status is, that it would give you some peace of mind.”</p><p><br/>
Stan doesn’t even propose anything Louis hasn’t considered already, but sometimes he just needs that extra pep talk to go through with his actions. </p><p><br/>
“You’re right, I guess.”</p><p><br/>
He hears Stan smile, “always am.”</p><p><br/>
“Thanks Stan,” Louis says, completely genuinely.  “I’ll let you get ready for your peasant work now.”</p><p><br/>
“Careful Tomlinson, or I’ll drop an anonymous email to Styles revealing that you have a huge crush on him.”</p><p><br/>
“You wouldn’t.”</p><p><br/>
“I totally would.”</p><p><br/>
“You wouldn’t and now go get your arse ready. Talk to you later.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’s a few minutes past midnight when Louis hears a knock on the door. At first his mind thinks he mistakes it for his own door and it’s actually the business guy next door coming home from some super important and exclusive meeting or whatever it is he does. Louis only saw him in the hallway and spontaneously decided to not take the same lift as him this morning.  </p><p><br/>
Another knock sounds from what’s definitely his door though, so Louis slowly gets up. Nothing’s changed in his appearance since his talk with Stan and he’s spent the last two hours lying in bed scrolling through Youtube, waiting to get tired. </p><p><br/>
His door, despite it being without doubt an expensive hotel, doesn’t have a peephole, so he won’t just open his door. Rationally he’s aware that no axe murderer would be able to pass the receptionist, but still. </p><p><br/>
“Who’s there?” Louis calls when he’s close enough to the door that the person on the other side would hear him. </p><p><br/>
“Harry.”</p><p>It doesn’t even take a second until Louis’ unlocked the door and opened it enough for Harry to see his full body. </p><p><br/>
“Hi,” Louis breathes out. Harry’s still in the clothes he probably went out with, his face tired from being busy all day, but he still looks so much fitter than Louis. </p><p><br/>
“Hey,” Harry replies and he hides it very well, but there’s a slight slur in his voice, indicating that he’s been drinking. </p><p><br/>
For a second, they’re silent, simply staring at each other before Louis steps into action. </p><p><br/>
“Wanna come in?” he gestures with his head. </p><p><br/>
“Mhm,” Harry nods and follows Louis inside. Luckily Louis hasn’t had the chance nor motivation to unpack his clothes so the room is relatively clean. </p><p><br/>
“How was your night out? Seems like you had fun,” Louis comments, sitting down on his bed while Harry chooses to lean against the wooden table opposite it. </p><p><br/>
“I had so much fun, Michael and Luke and Ashton were there, and then Liz and Addison. Oh and Luke too.”</p><p><br/>
“Yeah you already mentioned him, I think.”</p><p><br/>
Pulling an adorable pouty face, Harry’s unfocused eyes wonder to the ceiling. It’s the first time Louis sees Harry even remotely drunk, usually he cuts it after a glass of wine if that at all. </p><p><br/>
“Yeah maybe. Anyway, then Xander and Jack joined us when we…”</p><p><br/>
<em>Xander.</em> Jealousy bubbles up in Louis and this time he doesn’t feel the need to cover it up. Judging from Harry’s state, he won’t notice. </p><p><br/>
Harry rambles on about his evening for some time, occasionally losing his train of thought but starting over unbothered. Louis sits there, nods along and throws in a comment here and there, but this is not what he hoped would happen when he invited Harry in. </p><p><br/>
“Why are you here, Harry?” he questions when it seems Harry has said everything he meant to. </p><p><br/>
“Just wanted to make sure you’re still coming to the arena tomorrow. For soundcheck and stuff, you know?”</p><p><br/>
“Uh. Sure?”</p><p><br/>
He could’ve just texted about that, no need to show up at Louis’ hotel room at past midnight. But well, drunk people. </p><p><br/>
“Last time you didn’t.”</p><p><br/>
“I was sleeping off my jetlag. Or, trying to.”</p><p><br/>
Silence falls over the room as Harry doesn’t feel the need to answer that, instead just staring at Louis with an unreadable facial expression. It feels loaded with tension, but not the bad, awkward kind. Louis can’t put it into words, but he’s not about to kick Harry out now. </p><p><br/>
“Can I kiss you?”</p><p><br/>
Louis almost chokes on his spit and his heart misses at least three beats only to speed up unhealthily afterwards. He swallows dryly, wishing for Harry to repeat himself to make sure his overtired mind didn’t make up the words he just heard. </p><p><br/>
“What?”</p><p><br/>
“Can I kiss you?” Harry repeats in the same way as before, but the intoxicated undertone audible. Louis’ heard his fair share of hammered people talking during his uni time, he can decipher that way of speaking everywhere, he’s practically a pro at it. </p><p><br/>
“Harry, you’re drunk.” </p><p><br/>
Usually, he’d jump at the prospect of Harry asking to kiss him, but now it’s different. He doesn’t want to be the drunken mistake. He doesn’t want to allow himself to hope for something more when Harry’s clearly not thinking straight. And what’s most important - he doesn’t want to let Harry know in any way that he’s feeling very non-platonic feelings for him. </p><p><br/>
“Yeah. And I wanna kiss you.”</p><p><br/>
Louis doesn’t answer, but doesn’t back away when Harry slowly approaches the bed and sits down next to him, facing him. He certainly doesn’t pull away when Harry closes the little distance that’s left between them piece by piece. If he wanted to he could, Harry isn’t forcing him in any way. And that’s the whole point, he doesn’t want to <em>not</em> kiss him. </p><p><br/>
So he sits there and lets himself be kissed by Harry Styles, in a mostly dark hotel room behind closed doors, far away from cameras and the public, just for himself. Like it isn’t the one thing he’s dreamt of doing the past few weeks. Like he’s not going to shatter on the inside and stay awake all night as soon as Harry leaves. </p><p><br/>
Harry tastes of sweet cocktails, or that’s at least what Louis imagines. It’d suit Harry, at least. </p><p><br/>
Kissing Harry in private isn’t any less exciting than the kisses they’ve shared in public before. If anything, it’s even better because no matter how intoxicated Harry is right now, it’s basically the first proper display of affection he’s actively initiiated himself. </p><p><br/>
They don’t touch anywhere else and it must look sort of awkward from the outside, but it feels good and Louis is definitely not going to go further, no matter how much he’d like to. Being able to kiss Harry this gently, with both of their heads slightly turned to the side, is a privilege Louis never thought he’d be able to get to do. Harry’s plush lips must be one of the most divine things on earth, Louis’ happy-hormone-high brain thinks and he logically can’t disagree. </p><p><br/>
They part slowly after an undefinite amount of time. Late night talking - and kissing - has Louis lose all sense of time. </p><p><br/>
They smile cautiously at each other, Harry’s eyes almost dropping close from sleepiness and maybe, hopefully, contentment. </p><p><br/>
“I should go to bed,” he whispers with his eyes almost fully closed. </p><p><br/>
“Okay.”</p><p><br/>
Harry makes it to the door without stumbling, which honestly surprises Louis after he almost falls over when trying to stand up. </p><p><br/>
“Do you want me to take you to your room?” Louis offers, a tad worried. After all, Harry had made it this far though, had found the hotel. </p><p><br/>
“No, ‘m good.”</p><p><br/>
“If you say so.”</p><p><br/>
Harry grips the door frame as he turns around to face Louis again. “Good night.”</p><p><br/>
“Good night, Harry.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
The next day, Louis isn’t sure if Harry remembers what’s happened the previous night and Harry doesn’t bring it up at all. A small part of Louis had hoped Harry would kiss him hello when he joins him in the car to Golden 1 center, and it stings to think that this is it, this was his one and only chance and Louis didn’t use it fully. </p><p><br/>
On the good part though, it feels like every rest of awkwardness from their fight is gone through some magical way. </p><p><br/>
When they arrive, Harry is lead away to whatever it is he does first, so Louis is left on his own. He meets the boys who form the supporting act and they have a good laugh in the community room that holds the catering. </p><p><br/>
It’s thrilling to learn how things work backstage, even if it’s just superficial. Backstage doesn’t mean all the swank of the world, no. A lot of stadiums and arenas Harry is playing at are actually primarly used for sports and therefore meant to be functional, with cement walls and flickering industrial lamps stuck to the ceiling, illuminating the decorationless hallways. </p><p><br/>
Louis curiously observes how the last parts of Harry’s stage set-up is built from a safe distance, then he even gets to ask questions at the sound and light check. This time, Louis watches Harry getting mic-ed up for soundcheck and then soundchecking itself. His highlight is Harry smiling at him where he’s leaning against one of the folding seats, causing him to smile back dopely. </p><p><br/>
A couple hours later at the actual concert, Louis ends up in one of the VIP boxes of Golden 1 center. Harry subtly mentions his presence again, although most fans are already aware of it.</p><p><br/>
“Hello everyone,” he greets the crowd, then looks up to the private rooms, directly at Louis and waves. “Hi,” he adds again, as if to say it to Louis and Louis only. </p><p><br/>
Throughout the whole night, he repeats little actions like that, looking up to him occasoinally during random parts of his songs. Louis feels all warm and tingly inside whenever he does. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I finally made an Instagram, people! I'd love to talk to you and make new friends, so feel free to follow and DM me.<br/>It's    bluegreenishy   :) x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>The next stop of Harry’s tour is San José. This time, they’re not going to fly, effectively helping Louis’ environmental consciousness a bit. It’s logical too, it’s only about a two hour ride, a bit longer for the lorries with the stage set-up. </p><p><br/>They drive at night because traffic is less bad then, but it also means that Harry doesn’t even get to rest or shower after his concert. With the amount of dancing and running around he does he definitely deserves it though, especially considering the temperature inside the arena. </p><p><br/>Louis isn’t really in on the whole route planning, but he hears the driver phone someone, probably from Harry’s team, explaining that some big accident happened on their planned route and that they’re going to take the I-880 instead of I-680. Louis quickly learns that it means they’re going to drive past San Francisco and it takes a lot to refrain from taking blurry pictures with his phone out of the car window every couple minutes. </p><p><br/>It’s surprising how fast he could get used to a lifestyle like this - luxury and a certain standard of comfort, with Harry and on the road, actually seeing something of the world other than the train connection from Doncaster to Manchester. </p><p><br/>He’s sure it’s more stressful for Harry at times, but right now, he personally can’t complain. In the end, if he’d be doing this all his life, he’d probably get massively bored after some months, feel useless and superfluous though. </p><p><br/>“Sometimes I wish I could see more than just the arena when I’m on the road,” Harry suddenly speaks up, causing Louis to turn from watching the landscape fly by to face Harry on his right. </p><p><br/>“Do you not get the chance to be a proper tourist?” It’s probably a stupid question, but so far, Louis’ only seen two of Harry’s countless tour stops. Maybe his schedule is different in other parts of the world. </p><p><br/>“Not really, no. I mean, sometimes I’m in the area for two, three days, like yesterday in Sacramento, but it’s not nearly enough to explore the cities. Especially not, like, tourist attractions.”</p><p><br/>“Mh, that sucks.”</p><p><br/>Harry sighs, looking down into his lap where his hands are fumbling around. “I guess, yeah. It’s complaining on a high level though, I’m aware of that.”</p><p><br/>“Maybe you can voice your wishes the next time your team plans a tour?” Louis suggests. </p><p><br/>Breathing out, Harry shakes his head. “That’s not really how it works. It’s an agency who plans the best routes and I get a say in when I’d roughly like some off-time, and sometimes request certain cities, but that’s it. Life’s not always a bowl of cherries.”</p><p><br/>“I’m sorry,” Louis says and means it. After a second of thinking, he adds “What’s a place you’d want to visit?”</p><p><br/>Harry thinks about it for a second, eyes wandering up to the top right. “Hm. Yosemite national park, for example.”</p><p><br/>“True, that’s probably a pretty cool experience.”</p><p><br/>Deep on the inside, Louis thinks about how amazing it’d be to get to visit Yosemite national park… with Harry. Like it’s actually a realistic hope to entertain. Like Harry and him are going to travel together after Harry’s tour is over, after their contract is over. <em>Laughable. </em></p><p><br/>“I love doing what I do, don’t get me wrong. I get so many opportunities that I wouldn’t otherwise, and that’s wonderful, but it also limits me a lot.”</p><p><br/>And sure, Harry can’t exactly go on the London Eye or other restricted sights, but more than that? He’ll be photographed on the tube, on the train, on the plane, wherever he goes. People will tweet about his location without his consent, will comment about who’s with him. It’s exactly what AB-PR has used as a strategy to make their relationship believable before. </p><p><br/>Harry can’t even go on holiday without people discovering him and the place he’s safe in, his own home, gets stalked regularly. The more Louis thinks about it, the more claustrophobic he feels. No wonder Harry feels the way he does, even if he doesn’t necessarily complain much about it. </p><p><br/>These thoughts reinforce the view that Louis and Harry's life is quite different. </p><p><br/>“I wish I could do something to make it better,” Louis utters. </p><p><br/>Harry smiles at him, lips closed but eyes crinkled. “That’s not your job. And I actually enjoy you being here. More than I thought I would.”</p><p><br/>Louis can’t help a grin from spreading on his face, and if it weren’t for the driver in the front seat, he’d be more than tempted to try and initiate a kiss. Because that thought definitely doesn’t let him go. “I’m glad.”</p><p><br/>Harry falls asleep an hour into the ride, head falling back against the headrest and it looks sort of uncomfortable. If Louis sat a little closer and Harry’d slide down a bit, Louis would offer his shoulder as a pillow. It doesn’t happen though, so Louis just sits there and occasionally gazes over to see Harry breathe through his mouth and smack his lips. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The two hour drive flies by fast but it’s still way past midnight when they arrive at the hotel. Luckily, they don’t need to organise anything other than check-in and grab their key cards. It’s going to be a busy stay in San José, with no spare day before the concert. Poor people who have to set up the stage all day to make sure it’s all done by afternoon. </p><p><br/>Louis wishes he’d get some time off to drive around Silicon Valley, or even better, go on a day trip to San Francisco bay. Sadly, they don’t have time for that. </p><p><br/>The concert is going to take place at the SAP center, also called the Shark tank, as Louis learns. Admittedly, he’s not that informed when it comes to American ice hockey, or any hockey at all, but it’s also a part he’s excited to experience - the difference in importance of certain sports. </p><p><br/>AB-PR is pressuring for a new pap photo because despite Harry obviously hinting at Louis being present at his concerts, and one blurry fan picture of them walking the streets of Sacramento, there hasn’t been much content of the two of them together lately. </p><p><br/>That’s why shortly before the support act’s soundcheck, Louis sneakily photographs Harry picking vegetables from the catering table. Because Harry is on a health trip, so is the presented food, but Louis still always finds something he likes as well. Maybe Harry also requested fries for himself - that’s possible right?</p><p><br/>“Hey, Harry?”</p><p><br/>Harry looks up from the plate of avocado sandwiches he’s currently leaning over, inspecting closely. </p><p><br/>“Huh?”</p><p><br/>Louis snaps a picture just the second Harry’s head sways around, confused who’s just called him. He cackles when he clicks on his gallery and zooms in on Harry’s face. </p><p><br/>“Heey,” Harry complains with a fake pout. </p><p><br/>“Sorry, babe,” Louis says and puckers his lips as if to kiss Harry. Which he totally would do if he got the chance, to be honest. A part of him wishes he didn’t need to call Harry <em>babe</em> ironically. </p><p><br/><strong>“Pre-show avocado hipster,”</strong> Louis captions the Instagram and Twitter post. It blows up within a few minutes, and Mrs Sanchez is content so everyone’s happy. </p><p> </p><p>Everything goes off without a hitch, the soundcheck, letting the fans in, the concert itself. It’s significantly hotter in San José than it was in Sacramento and Louis admires the way Harry even looks good sweating in his extravagant one-piece suits. The third time Louis gets to see Harry bounce around on stage and he thinks he’d never get tired of it. One day, hopefully, Louis’ll find something he is as passionate about as Harry is about being a musician. </p><p><br/>When they make their way to the backstage rooms, waiting for Harry to get ready to leave, Louis talks to the support act boys and Harry’s stylist Caroline. He smiles involuntarily when he realises he actually knows the crew, even after just a couple days. It feels like they’re a team, a family maybe. With all the banter going on, Louis can see why Harry loves touring, aside from the obvious hype of playing in front of thousands of fans. </p><p><br/>They don’t head off that night, instead they’re taken to the hotel to spend the night in San José before leaving early the next morning. It’s easier for everyone, considering Harry doesn’t have a show the next day but the day after. </p><p><br/>Louis hopes Harry would invite him over to his room, or to a late night dinner date or maybe a repitition of the London hotel room escapade, just with less movie watching and more making out. None of that happens though, as Harry announces he’ll be making use of the hotel’s private gym. In the middle of the night. What an ambitious freak. It does make sense though, Harry’s muscles don’t build during Netflix marathons. </p><p><br/>He wouldn’t admit it, but Louis considers joining Harry for a split of a second. He rejects the thoughts just as fast because neither did he bring sports clothes, nor is he nearly fit enough to keep up with Harry without making a fool out of himself. In the end, Louis just retreats to his room and munches on some local sweets he discovered displayed next to the healthy green snacks at the SAP center. He bagged at least half of them when no one was watching. </p><p><br/>The next morning, both Harry and Louis are visibly excited for Inglewood. Louis because he’s never been to the forum or LA and he’s sure it’s going to be an amazing night that he’ll never forget. Harry because he can stay in his LA home instead of a hotel, for a couple days too because he’s got three days off after Inglewood. </p><p><br/>Once again, Harry’s team settled on driving rather than flying and they’re both happy about it. This way, they just have to exit the hotel and hop on the car, not caring about boarding deadlines and lost baggage. </p><p><br/>Harry’s already waiting in the car when Louis opens the door and plops down. “Morning,” he greets Harry, both headphones still in his ears. </p><p><br/>“Good morning,” Harry smiles back, patiently waiting for Louis to settle comfortably and buckle up. It’s not even that early in the morning, half past eight at least, but despite the excitement flowing through Louis’ body, he still doesn’t feel properly rested. He balls up the extra jacket he brought and pushes it against the window to rest his head against it. </p><p><br/>“What are you listening to?”</p><p><br/>A slight blush creeps over Louis’ cheeks and instead of answering verbally, he wakes up his phone screen and shows Harry. <em>Secret love song</em> by Little Mix. Harry just smiles. </p><p><br/>“They’re nice girls.”</p><p><br/>It takes a second before Louis gets what he’s saying, but of course Harry knows virtually every important artist in the music industry right now. </p><p><br/>“Ah yes, Perrie Edwards used to be with Zayn, right?”</p><p><br/>Harry nods, face neutral. “Yeah. She’s nice, and it’s sad they didn’t really end on good terms. I wasn’t really invested in their relationship, to be honest, but I think they’re both good off this way.”</p><p><br/>Louis had heard some gossip here and there on the side, and then also a lot with Niall, Ed and Julian, but other than that not much. Not that he enjoys running his mouth or anything, but this is one of the first time he’s being let in on somewhat substantial information. </p><p><br/>“He’s dating Gigi Hadid now, isn’t he?”</p><p><br/>“Quite seriuosly too, if you ask me. Good for them.”</p><p><br/>“Yeah, good for them,” Louis repeats mindlessly. He could imagine dating someone seriously, too. It’s a frightening thought and he’s never considered it before. Maybe he’s just growing out of the going out and having fun age, or maybe it’s Harry’s influence on him, Louis doesn’t know. </p><p> </p><p>With almost 6 hours of driving ahead, including a stop in Bakersfield to let the driver stretch his leg and grant them a chance to go have a wee, they have a lot of time to kill. The first hour, Louis allows himself to rest his eyes some more, snoozing with his earphones in while Harry is reading some classic novel Louis doesn’t know. </p><p><br/>Once they’re speeding down the endless I-5, Louis gets a grip and sits up, popping the bones in his neck. Harry looks over to him, but continues reading while Louis checks his social media. </p><p><br/>“It’s insane how much public attention a single picture of you doing the most humane things gains,” Louis comments when he checks the reactions to the avocado post of the previous day. </p><p><br/>“Weird, isn’t it?” Harry agrees. </p><p><br/>“Imagine what would happen if you were to post, like, a shirtless picture or something. You’d <em>break</em> the internet.”</p><p><br/>Harry pulls a face and closes the book after checking the page number. “I don’t want that though. I just want to do stuff without everyone looking into it or inspecting the background and deducing where and with whom I currently am. It gets exhausting.”</p><p>“Is that why you barely use your social media?”</p><p><br/>Nodding, Harry shuffles in his seat, pushing the seat belt in a more comfortable sit. “I used to use it quite frequently when we were still younger, in the band. We were strongly encouraged to by our management at the time. Which - I get it, it’s nice for fans to see what their idol is up to at the moment. It just also feels like everyone’s stalking you a bit.”</p><p><br/>“Yeah, I get what you mean.”</p><p><br/>“Like, I’m a musician, not an influencer, you know?” Harry swallows. “My new management doesn’t force me to post except for promo anymore. Well, except for now, obviously.”</p><p><br/>Silence washes over them for a second, both of them reminded of the contract and its consequences. Shrugging, Harry tries to lighten the mood. </p><p><br/>“I do have a personal Instagram though, for my friends only. For myself, too.”</p><p><br/>“I knew it!” Louis grins and points at Harry. “Everyone on the internet kind of suspects that.”</p><p><br/>“I sometimes get requests, but I like to think that I’m hiding it quite well.” Harry stops and thinks for a second. “Maybe I’ll tell you in July,” he teases.<em> When we the contract is over and we’re officially broken up</em>, is what he means. </p><p><br/>“Who says I even want to follow you? I find you’re leading a fairly boring life. Sorry honey,” Louis goes for cheeky and receives a tongue-out from Harry, making him grin in return. </p><p><br/>Before Harry has the chance to go back to reading his book and therefore not interacting with Louis, he proposes an idea. </p><p><br/>“Hey, I know you’re not the biggest fan of Instagram, but maybe we could do one of these answer thingies?” </p><p><br/>Harry looks confused, not following along. </p><p><br/>“In your Instagram story? Or Twitter works too, I guess,” Louis says, trying to describe what he means. “Niall does them sometimes I believe.”</p><p><br/>Now nodding, Harry pulls out his phone. “Sure.”</p><p><br/>It actually surprises Louis how easily Harry agrees, deciding on Instagram and clicking on the app without hesitating. Together they figure out how these survey like stories work and then Harry releases a story saying <strong>Ask me questions!</strong> to his millions of followers. The first questions start flowing in mere seconds after Harry posts it, but they decide to wait a couple minutes and then choose the best ones. </p><p><br/>Locking his phone, Harry rests it on his right thigh, turning to Louis to converse in the mean time. </p><p><br/>“When’s your flight home?”</p><p><br/>“Uh, Saturday night after your concert I think?”</p><p><br/>“Now that you’re, uh… free? … anyway, you could stay for the second concert in Inglewood. Only if you want to, I mean,” Harry adds. </p><p><br/>Raising his eyebrows, Louis needs to control himself really hard to not show his level of excitement. He’s definitely not saying no to staying longer in LA. “You sure?”</p><p><br/>“Absolutely. Just mail Miss Pittman, she’ll reschedule the flight.”</p><p><br/>“Is it that easy? I’d feel bad for causing trouble.”</p><p><br/>Harry shrugs. “It’s been done before. Don’t worry.”</p><p>After that, Harry whips out his phone again and they go through the questions. A lot of the messages are just <em>I love you, come to xy!!!</em>, some of them are highly inappropriate. Some of them are generic and have already been answered by Harry and the other band members a thousand times, while others are truly interesting, original questions. Altogether, a good part of them are about Louis. </p><p><br/>Before clicking on the first one though, Harry suddenly looks over to him. “Where are you staying in LA, by the way?” he asks casually, causing Louis to look up from where he’s leaning over Harry’s phone. </p><p><br/>“Hawthorne I think? I don’t really know the area, but I think it’s close to the airport? I’d have to look up the exact hotel though. Why?“</p><p><br/>Harry hesitates before he replies. “I’m staying at my place for a couple days. If you want to, you could join me? I have a few spare bedrooms.”</p><p><br/>That’s not what Louis was expecting. Harry invites him to stay at his house, without needing to take staged pictures? That’s a step in a very interesting direction and Louis’ heart starts beating faster in his chest. You don’t ask people that unless you really want them around, do you?</p><p><br/>“I’d love to,” Louis grins and almost wants to slap himself in the face at how desperate he sounds. Harry doesn’t seem to mind, though, just smiling back before they both return to the mission at hand. </p><p><br/>At first, Harry goes for some superficial messages to satisfy AB-PR, Mrs Sanchez and everyone else begging for fan interaction. With most of the pictures, Harry settles for a black background or photographing the backside of the car seat in front of him. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: How are you feeling about the forum tomrrw night?</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A: Very excited! Can’t wait to see you all.</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: Whats ur fav stop on tour?</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A: I love them all! </strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: Will there be a new cover soon? Love you!! xxxx</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A: You’ll have to be patient to find out!</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: Last listened song?</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A: I wanna dance with somebody, Whitney Houston</strong>
</p><p><br/>“Was it really?” Louis wonders when he sees Harry type out that answer. </p><p><br/>“Nah, but the last song on shuffle was<em> I can’t get no satisfaction</em> and I didn’t want to talk down your skills,” Harry teases and winks suggestively. Louis slaps his arm lightly and tries to keep down the blushing. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: Whats urs and louis fav colour?</strong>
</p><p><br/>“What’s your?”</p><p><br/>Taking a look at Harry’s eyes, Louis doesn’t need to think long. “Green.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>A: mine blue, Louis green</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: Where are you right now?</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A: on an adventure!</strong>
</p><p><br/>For that one, Harry takes a selfie of half of his face, mouth and eyes wide open to convey excitment. He looks way younger in the resulting picture, and it’s cute. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that’s a good one,” Louis throws in and makes Harry scroll up again. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: What would you name your boat if you had one? Or what’s it called if you do?</strong>
</p><p><br/>“Do you own a boat?” It’s not a ridiculous thought as Harry could definitely afford, like, 15 private yachts or something. </p><p><br/>“Nope.”</p><p><br/>“Then what would you call it?”</p><p><br/>Harry takes a couple seconds to consider his answer and it doesn’t disappoint. “Seas the day.”</p><p><br/>Groaning, Louis buries his face in his hands, shaking his head. Next to him, Harry laughs at his reaction, obviously content with his pun. </p><p><br/>“That was horrible. You’re horrible.”</p><p><br/>“It’s genuis,” Harry grins and types his answer out on Instagram. “What would you call your boat?” </p><p><br/>“Harry Styles sucks.”</p><p><br/>“Heyy.” Pouting, Harry looks at him with big eyes. Louis almost takes it back. “Alright, last one.“</p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: Where is Lou right now?</strong>
</p><p><br/>“Your fans already call me by my nickname,” Louis remarks. </p><p><br/>“I think it’s cute. Shows that the accept you.” And right, that’s a way to see it. They’ve gotten accused of fake dating before, and then the whole cheating rumours happened, but very little hate has been going straight back to Louis. That’s not always a given with celebrity’s partners, especially when the fanbase is young and jealous, but it’s been getting better for Harry ever since he came out. </p><p><br/>“Can I take a picture of you?”</p><p><br/>“Okay?”</p><p><br/>Harry takes a picture of Louis smiling widely at the camera, his eyes crinkling. He doesn’t add a comment, just posts the photo as an answer, implying that Louis is right beside him, just like they’re always claiming. </p><p> </p><p><br/>Later, when they’re taking a toilet break in Bakersfield, Louis zaps through Harry’s stories on his own public Instagram account. He’s surprised to see one question he hadn’t seen Harry answer. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Q: What do you love most about lou?? Ur so cute tgthr!!!</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A: How selfless he is. He’ll give so much to make it work. </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Everything in Louis heats up with bubbly, warm feelings. Harry was in no way forced to answer this specific question, in fact, he didn’t need to address anything concerning Louis and their relationship at all. Still, he had done it. Without telling Louis, too. That’s got to mean something, right?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>When they arrive in greater LA in the afternoon, Harry announces to the driver that the two of them would like to be dropped off at his house in Beverly Hills. Louis almost starts coughing in shock when he realises where he’ll be staying for the next three days. </p><p><br/>Harry’s house is big, but a completely different architectural style than his London house. Still, there’s a sturdy fence marking his property and Louis wonders who Harry’s neighbours are. Neighbours meaning the people who own the huge luxury mansions that can be seen in the distance.</p><p><br/>Harry quickly gives him a rough tour and lets him choose a guestroom, only ruling out one that his sister Gemma will be sleeping in starting tomorrow, before he’s off to meet with some management people. So for the rest of the day, Louis is free to do what he wants. </p><p><br/>As Louis isn’t actually famous, he doesn’t get a personal driver to take him downtown, but he just googles and finds a taxi company to pick him up. It’s surely a weird experience to call a <em>taxi</em> to his current location in one of the fanciest areas in the Beverly Hills, it feels out of place, but well, he won’t see the driver ever again. </p><p><br/>If he were to get a whole week in LA, Louis knows what he’d do - Disneyland, Universal Studios, maybe the Santa Monica Pier as well. Be a real British tourist and see all the stuff he never thought he’d get to see, because honestly, with a degree in Sociology he never really dreamt of making big money and taking his future family to month long holidays to the US or Caribbean or other fancy places. </p><p><br/>He seriously considers pretending to be artistically and scientifically interested enough to go off and visit some museum, but if he’s being honest, he just wants a chill rest of the day and stroll through the streets without a profound goal. That’s how he ends up following the Walk of Fame and its over 2600 stars through Hollywood, snapping pictures every now and then when he recognises famous names beneath his feet. </p><p><br/><strong>Louis: Guess where I am suckers,</strong> he sends a picture of The Beatles’ star in his Whatsapp groupchat with Stan and Oli. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Stan: NO WAY</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: Yes way!!</strong>
</p><p><br/>He adds a smug emoji when he later forwards them a picture of Queen’s star as well, knowing that’ll get even more of a reaction out of Stan. Oli’s not really into that kind of music, but Louis has yet to stumble across Snoop Dogg’s star. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Stan: I’m so jealous right now ngl</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>Stan: Buy an extra overpriced starbucks for me and think of your best mate who made it all possible </strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Oli: which would be me </strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>Oli: don’t buy a starbucks in my name, id like some proper souvenirs </strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: bite me</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Oli: oh btw… been keepin up w them news… maybe take a photo of Larry King as well? might come in handy later ;)</strong>
</p><p><br/>It takes a second before Louis understands what Oli’s hinting at, but he’s seen the shipping in the fandom online as well. It’s very creepy but also kind of cute. He just references to his former message <strong>bite me</strong> again before letting his phone slide into his trouser’s pockets, wanting to focus on the actual moment instead of just taking photos. </p><p><br/>Walking down the Hollywood Boulevard, Louis can’t believe he really is here, in LA, casually wandering around with no obligations at all. It’s a freeing feeling and despite it looking bad on his CV, this is the first he also feels glad the internship is in the past now. It was an experience, yes, but he doesn’t miss it, and Louis hopes he’ll find a job he’ll actually love in the future. </p><p><br/>After indeed getting a Starbucks, venti because today he’s treating himself, and trying to figure out a nice nearby place to sit down and relax before heading back to Harry’s house, a fan approaches him and nicely asks for a photo. She doesn’t even ask whether Harry is with him, just accepts the obvious situation that he’s not and is very content with the photo she gets. It’s a strange state of second-hand-fame he’s currently swimming in. </p><p><br/>AB-PR is happy with him though, because the fan he’s met talks very positively about him online, and a good image is all they’re worried about right now rather than making big headlines. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Thinking about it, it’s a bit shocking how much Harry seems to trust Louis at this point - just telling him the safety code for the fence and house. Harry has all the safety precautions to exist, including a very high quality CCTV, but still. In Louis’ opinion, it’s a sign of trust. </p><p><br/>Inside the house, Louis has free reign as well. He grants Harry, who’s still absent, the privacy he and anyone deserves and doesn’t actually peek into his private rooms, but he loves exploring everything else. The enormous living space with four beige couches, adorned with multiple soft pillows and blankets, making for a perfect lad’s night or birthday party scenery. The rich life must be fun when all your friends are around, Louis guesses. </p><p><br/>He retreats to his guestroom to gather his necessities for a shower before fully stepping into the guest bathroom for the first time. It doesn’t disappoint, that’s for sure. Louis is still amazed by the sheer luxury of it, especially compared to his university halls’ bathroom, but it doesn’t have the same effect as looking at something of the like in one of the hotel rooms for the first times. It’s easy to get used to a high standard. </p><p><br/>Undressing slowly, Louis reaches out to turn on the water pouring from the three shower heads. They probably also have, like, a rain mist setting or something. </p><p><br/>He takes his time showering, zapping through all the possible shower settings and smelling at least half of the shampoos and conditioners Harry has stacked up on the counter. Some of them are for women, and a spike of jealousy runs through Louis before he remembers Harry mentioning both his sister and occasionally his mum coming for a visit. </p><p><br/>Louis’ musical playlist booms from his phone speakers, ranging from <em>Aladdin</em> to <em>Cats</em> to <em>Tarzan</em>, and he’s more than intrigued to sing along loudly. He’s alone in a massive mansion, living his best life right now (except for the part where he has a unbelievably stupid crush on his contract partner, but well). </p><p><br/><em>“Love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes, and we keep loving anyway,”</em> Louis sings along when his favourite Hamilton piece comes on. Walking back to his room, he picks up the joggers he forgot to bring to the bathroom but doesn’t put them on immeaditely, rather skipping back to the bathroom to jam along to the music. </p><p><br/>What he misses because of the noise level is Harry coming home and making his way to the part of the house Louis is currently dancing around in when he hears the commotion. </p><p><br/><em>“And if there's a reason I'm still alive when everyone who loves me has died, I’m willing to wait for it,”</em> Louis sways his hips, waiting for the grand drop of the chorus. </p><p><br/><em>“Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it, wait for it,”</em> he imitates an echo, causing Harry, who’s standing in the hallway watching him, to smile fondly. </p><p><br/><em>“I am the one thing in life I can controool,”</em> Louis draws out, throwing his hands in the air while waiting for more echoes to come. Honestly, he should receive both an Oscar and a Grammy for his performance. </p><p><br/>Originally Harry plans on making his presence known after the chorus, but the chorus transitions straight into the next verse so he sticks to quietly watching. Louis is completely word-perfect and emphasises all the important parts dramatically and it’s entertaining to watch. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>“What is it like in his shoes?” </em>
</p><p><br/>“Wohoo,” Harry sees his chance and cheers, both hands around his mouth, then clapping. Louis jumps, snapping out of his thoughts. </p><p><br/>“Jesus, you almost scared me to death!”</p><p><br/>“Sorry. Didn’t want to interrupt your big performance,” Harry smiles, encouragingly. “I don’t know the words, but please keep going.”</p><p><br/>Louis doesn’t think before he actually does continue singing. Now considerably less loudly though, because there’s a real singer standing in front of him, probably judging his pronounciation and breathing technique and everything else you can fuck up when singing. He also tries to not gesticulate as much at first, rather securing the towel around his waist as that’s the only thing keeping him from being completely naked. </p><p><br/>Harry is also definitely ogling him where he’s standing, but Louis tries to not think too much into it and keep the blush creeping onto his cheeks at bay. </p><p><br/><em>“Life doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes,”</em> Louis sings and moves as is he were rapping the phrases, making both of them laugh. </p><p><br/>Applauding loudly when the song starts to fade out, Harry also attempts to whistle through his fingers, succeeding on his second try. </p><p><br/>“Thank you, thank you,” Louis bows. </p><p><br/>“I didn’t know you were a theatre kid,” Harry smiles, stepping closer and leaning his shoulder against the door frame. </p><p><br/>“Sure was.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you seen Hamilton live?”</p><p><br/>Louis shakes his head. “Nah, wanted to get tickets for London with Stan but they’re fucking expensive and hard to get.”</p><p><br/>Harry frowns. “I’ve been to the Broadway one. One of my favourite musicals so far.”</p><p><br/>“I can imagine.” He doesn’t have anything else to say, and Harry is still staring at him and his naked upper body, so he decides he desperately needs to change the topic. “How was the meeting with your management?”</p><p><br/>Harry shrugs, obviously not in the mood to go into detail. “’t was okay. Have you had dinner yet?”</p><p><br/>“Nope.”</p><p><br/>“Good, then you get dressed and I’ll start cooking,” Harry smiles. Before he leaves, he gives Louis a short once-over that he probably hopes goes unnoticed, but it doesn’t. </p><p><br/>“Sounds great,” Louis replies, happy with the sudden turn the evening has taken. </p><p><br/>“Take your time.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>Harry Styles, as it turns out, is talented at basically everything he touches. Cooking being one of those things, and Louis becomes a first-hand witness when he’s handed a steaming plate full of Pasta Primavera. </p><p><br/>“Healthy and remotely Italian,” Harry explains when he plops down opposite of Louis. </p><p><br/>“I’ll give it a try, but only because it’s you,” Louis jokes before digging in. </p><p><br/>“I feel honoured.”</p><p><br/>“You should,” Louis speaks around his first bite, which is way too delicious for something that’s been cooked in that short of a time. </p><p><br/>“Ugh,” Louis moans, closing his eyes in exaggeration. “This is amazing.”</p><p><br/>“Yeah?” Harry beams. </p><p><br/>“Yeah, really.”</p><p><br/>“I’m glad.”</p><p> </p><p><br/>The rest of the night is just spent relaxing in the living area, the telly running muted in the background and Harry handing out a beer to Louis when he politely declines the chocolate milk Harry offers. They’re in LA after all, in April, so some cool alcoholic beverage fits better. At one point, Harry is gripped by a wave of inspiration and runs off to his bedroom only to return with the worn, brown notebook that Louis’ seen peek out his ruckbag on multiple occasions before. </p><p><br/>“I really have to write this down before I forget it,” Harry explains when he feels Louis’ curious eyes on him. His tongue sneaks his way through his lips in concentration, his hand writing so fast it seems it can’t keep up with the words pouring from Harry’s mind. </p><p><br/>Louis opts to stay quiet and watch, not wanting to interrupt and possibly put a damper on Harry’s lyrical flow. He wonders if Harry only scribbles down notes for lyrics or if he also kind of hears the melody that’s going to go with his words. </p><p><br/>“So, did I just watch your next number 1 single being composed?”</p><p><br/>Harry looks up from where he’s staring out of the window, the pen resting between the book’s closed pages. A smile starts spreading across his face. </p><p><br/>“I think so, yeah. I mean, I only have the outline for the chorus so far, and it’s still in the fledgling stage of course, but I just feel like… I just feel like this one has potential.”</p><p><br/>“Sick,” Louis smiles back. </p><p> </p><p>Throughout the rest of the night, Louis is torn between fighting himself to keep the fond down and just letting it show. Nothing too telling has happend since their late-night kiss but it hasn’t been very long since, so he allows himself to hope. He’ll be in LA for another two and a half days, he’ll accompany Harry to his shows both nights and he’ll even get to meet Harry’s sister. Plus, one of the most obvious signs: he is staying at Harry’s personal home, for fuck’s sake. Sure, you’d also offer that to a good friend and Harry is an overly polite person anyway, but Louis feels like there’s an underswelling tone of something … something <em>more</em> there. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>Both shows turn out amazing and Louis is getting the hang of how the whole thing works, he thinks. Understands what part of the preparation happens when, who on the crew is a constant and who switches from location to location. Gets used to walking around the windowless backstage tunnels of the stadiums Harry is playing at and greeting various people he meets on the way from the catering room to Harry’s dressing room, which are his most frequented destinations. </p><p><br/>The first night, Louis spends in one of VIP boxes as always, with who he guesses are a couple of Harry’s American friends, especially fellow songwriters. He considers initiating a conversation with a girl his age who looks friendly and keeps smiling back whenever Louis glances in her direction, but doesn’t in the end. It becomes a bit lonely, always sitting up here and only interacting with the bar keepers, but watching Harry on stage takes up a lot of his attention anyways, no matter how often he’s seen it.</p><p> </p><p>The second night, though, is what tops everything. Harry has a space up front reserved for friends and family, a whole standing section for themselves so no fans will recognise and molest them. The realisation that Louis’ right inbetween all those people who are important to Harry hits a little harder than it needs to. </p><p> </p><p>Gemma and Louis hit it off within minutes of first meeting. She’s obviously related to Harry, in appearance and behaviour, with just a little more sarcasm lacing the way she speaks instead of bad puns. </p><p><br/>“So what are you intentions with my baby brother?” she jokes, without a doubt filled in on the whole publicity stunt that is them dating. </p><p><br/>“To love and honour him til death do part us.”</p><p><br/>Gemma snickers as they make their way through the backstage hallway that’s going to lead them to the entrance to the Forum’s inside. They’re literally standing <em>first row. </em></p><p><br/>“That’s what I wanted to hear.”</p><p><br/>Louis had kind of hoped to meet someone he knows in their section, like maybe Niall or Ed or even Julian, but they’re probably busy working on their own stuff instead of flying off to visit Harry’s concerts. Like Louis gets paid to do. </p><p><br/>“You know, I’m glad that I have you around now. I don’t really know anyone else here, except for the crew but they’re obviously never with me when Harry performs,” Louis admits when they arrive at their designated position. </p><p><br/>Gemma looks over at him and smiles meaningfully. “You know what I’m glad about? That Harry picked you. I think you were a very good choice for him, you two fit quite well from what I’ve seen so far.”</p><p><br/>Blushing, Louis glances at the stage just to find that the curtain still hasn’t moved, seeing as not even the supporting group has started performing yet. Gemma hadn’t even seen them interact much, just a bit of banter going on before Harry was ushered to get styled. </p><p><br/>“Uh, thanks.” He hesitates for a second before he dares asking a question he’s been thinking about for a couple months now, but never got around to ask Harry. “You said he <em>picked me.</em> I thought his team decided who’s chosen?“</p><p><br/>“His team shortlisted people and they obviously went through every possible option together, but Harry made the last call. Believe me, he kept bugging mum and me every other minute because he was scared of making a bad decision.”</p><p><br/>“Wow, I didn’t know that,” Louis swallows. Harry picked <em>him</em>. “Do you also happen to know who the other options were?”</p><p><br/>Gemma grins at him, enjoying having the upper hand with information here. “Yup.”</p><p><br/>“…And are you going to tell me? Or do I need to bribe you?”</p><p><br/>“Depends on what you’re offering,” Gemma frowns expectantly. “No, I’m just kidding. I’m not allowed to drop names - you know how it is - but there were three guys you were up against, as far as I remember. An athlete, an actor and a youtuber, I think? Harry had ruled out fellow musicians right from the start.”</p><p> </p><p>That is news to Louis. Well, all of it is. </p><p><br/>“Yeah? Why?”</p><p><br/>Gemma shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t want to confuse professional with personal?”</p><p><br/>Nodding, Louis considers her idea. Perhaps he doesn’t want to be tied to whatever a potential date from the music industry produces. </p><p><br/>“And he is… is he happy with his choice?” He tries to be subtle with what he’s really asking, but Gemma comes across as really attentive so he wouldn’t be surprised if she knows what’s going on. </p><p><br/>Right that second, the lights dim down, the background music that’s Harry’s playlist stops and is replaced by the supporting act starting the evening with their first and most famous track. Before directing her attention towards them, Gemma grins at Louis with a knowing glint in her eyes. </p><p><br/>“I think you know the answer to that.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>To celebrate Harry and his tour so far, they go out for a drink when Harry’s finished with the show and done changing and catching a breath. Louis, Gemma as well as some crew members join them and while Louis thought it’d only be a little inside night-ender, he’s shook out of his socks when he is confronted with the opposite. Apparently, when you’re a big name in the entertainment industry, there’s always lit parties going on in cities like LA.</p><p><br/>Louis needs to swallow thrice in order not to choke on his own spit when he thinks he spots Chris Martin, after already greeting the former drummer of One Direction. Harry meeting his friends is a fest of accumulating as many high-rank celebrities as possible and Louis feels a tad out of place, but also incredibly thankful to be part of it. </p><p><br/>The downside of celebrating in these proportions is Harry not being able to focus on Louis because he’s the centre of everyone’s attention. He’s always skipping around between people, toasting with everyone and catching up what’s been going on in their life with a wide smile on his face, nodding along. Harry had waved and winked and blewn kisses in Louis’ and Gemma’s direction all through the show, but he still craves more attention. It's a satisfying feeling though, knowing all this affection being visible on the fans' video material from that night. </p><p><br/>Louis sticks to chatting with Gemma, who knows more people present than Louis does but doesn’t feel in the mood to start a conversation with everyone. She greets some people who have toured with One Direction and Harry the same time she accompanied them as a mental support, but that’s it. </p><p><br/>“Louis!” </p><p><br/>When Louis looks around to locate from where he’s been called, he sees Harry approaching him with someone in pack. </p><p><br/>“Hey,” Louis mirrors Harry’s infectuous smile. His eyes sway over the man standing next to Harry, and holy fuck it’s <em>Liam Payne.</em></p><p><br/>“Uh, hi?” he stutters out, blushing slightly. </p><p><br/>“Hi mate, I’m Liam.”</p><p><br/>“…yeah, hi,” Louis repeats, overwhelmed with the sudden situation. So far, he’s had the privilege of meeting 3/4 of the original One Direction boys. So many of his female friends at home would strangle him out of jealousy. </p><p><br/>Harry snicks at Louis’ speechlessness, especially when he sees the helpless glance Louis shoots him. </p><p><br/>“Liam, this is Louis. He’s still a bit new to this whole thing, so go easy on him.”</p><p><br/>Liam smiles warmly at him, taking a sip from the bottle of beer he’s holding in his hand. “No worries. I just popped by for a couple minutes anyway. Got to get going in a few already.”</p><p><br/>Harry pouts. “Already?”</p><p><br/>“Yeah, sorry. But it’s not my fault we barely get to talk, you weren’t at the iHeart music awards! I was there, Styles, you can’t blame me.”</p><p><br/>Watching the whole exchange, Louis admires the connection Harry has with his friends even if he doesn’t see them every other day. The two men keep talking about the award show and then Harry’s shows in Australia, Liam remarking that he can’t wait to tour again himself. Before Louis can find a gap to enter the conversation, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Rita Ora calls for Harry and Liam and they excuse themselves, leaving Gemma and Louis alone again. </p><p><br/>Louis’ eyes trail after Harry, who’s now passionately hugging a woman who indeed turns out to be Rita Ora, and he smiles with closed lips. Turning back to Gemma after a couple seconds, she looks at him with a face that says <em>caught ya!</em>, making him cough. Louis knows he’s not good at hiding crushes, never has been, and he likes Gemma, no question, but maybe it’s not ideal that his crush’s sister out of all people is figuring things out.</p><p><br/>The night flies by and Louis learns more about Gemma and her profession, about her latest sunglasses collection, the way she and Harry grew up in Holmes Chapel. The three of them get papped taking a taxi home that night, as Gemma is obviously staying with them in the guestroom down the hall of the room Louis’ currently occupying. He has to admit, he’s kind of disappointed that nothing more happens. No touching, no kissing for show. Harry’s got his hand on Louis’ lower back in the pap pictures, but a lot of headlines focus on Gemma and the Styles sibling reunion, because apparently family members are never safe from the media once you become famous. </p><p> </p><p>Louis’ flight back home to Manchester is scheduled for the next day, late afternoon. Until that, he’s free to chill with Harry, Gemma being out to meet some friends she hasn’t seen in a long time. Which is kind of convenient. </p><p><br/>Except that Harry is off to his home gym to work out fo an hour while Louis sits in the living room and scrolls away on his phone. When he’s through Instagram, Twitter and even the uncomfortable emails, Harry emerges in the room, hair in a bun and skin sweaty. It’s hot. </p><p><br/>“Your generation is always on their phones,” Harry mocks, wiping his face with a towel. Louis wants to kiss him. </p><p><br/>“Excuse me, Mister, before you start mocking me I’ll need to have a strict word with you!”</p><p><br/>“Oh yeah?”</p><p><br/>“Yeah! You lied on the internet about what I gave you as a birthday gift! Me cooking for you, <em>please</em>!”</p><p><br/>At that, Harry snickers. “Well, you didn’t actually <em>do</em> stuff so I had to come up with something romantic. The expecations are high, Tomlinson.”</p><p><br/>Louis gets up with a challenged glint in his eyes, standing right in front of Harry now. “Gemma had groceries delivered earlier today, right? Go shower and I’ll show you who laughs last!”</p><p><br/>Stepping closer, Harry looks down at him, accepting the silent challenge with smirk. If he were to take another step forward, their chests would be touching and they’d be in the perfect position to kiss. </p><p><br/>“Ohh, now I’m intrigued. What will it be? Noodles? Or do you dare to attempt pancakes, already?“</p><p><br/>“I’d watch my mouth if I were you.“</p><p><br/>“You’re on,” Harry grins and turns around, already stripping off his shirt before he’s out of the room, giving Louis a wonderful view of his muscular back.</p><p><br/>Now, Louis isn’t completely helpless in the kitchen, but he’s far from anything other than passable. In Manchester he’d enjoyed his flatmate’s cooking skills and at home his mum’s, and the gaps inbetween are usually filled with pre-packaged food. </p><p><br/>A lot of the confidence he showed in front of Harry was bluffed, and he definitely shouldn’t have hyped himself up like that, but now he is going to deliver one way or another. With a Jamie Oliver inspired rice bowl and anything remotely similar that he can find in Harry’s kitchen cabinets. </p><p><br/>Fifteen minutes later, Harry joins him in the kitchen, smelling freshly showered and severly interested in Louis’ progression. </p><p><br/>“How’s it going, Mrs Ramsey?” Harry approaches Louis from behind, leaning over his back to look down at the pots on the stove while Louis is currently trying to figure out whether the rice is ready or not. He underestimates how close exactly Harry stands and when he twists his head to look over his shoulder, they’re mere inches apart. His breath hitches involuntarily, but the moment is ends quickly when the timer for the rice goes off. </p><p><br/>Harry sticks to watching Louis prepare the individual ingridients, leaning casually against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, effectively showing of his biceps. Louis has to concentrate hard to not focus on that instead of the mushrooms. Sometimes, when Louis cuts with not so much expertise as he wishes he possessed, he can hear Harry snort in amusement, but he doesn’t let it get to him and carries his head high as he continues to follow the recipe on his phone. </p><p><br/>“Maybe you could set the table instead of watching my every move, what d’you think of that?” Louis suggests. </p><p><br/>“Sure.” </p><p><br/>When Harry passes him the first time to reach for the plates, he brushes Louis’ lower back with his hand as if to gently push him out of the way, despite the kitchen being spacious enough. The second and every time after that, Harry pinches Louis in the sides, making him flinch every time. </p><p><br/>“Stop it,” he complains, but doesn’t mean it. If this is the way to get the physical contact with Harry going, he’ll take it. </p><p><br/>“Why? Is it bothering you?” Harry punctuates every word with a pinch, laughing at the way Louis is spasming and trying to escape the attack. As an attempt to fight back, Louis tickles Harry’s tummy, only to find he’s not ticklish in the slightest. </p><p><br/>“Harryyy,” Louis whines and after a couple more seconds, Harry indeed lets up, but only to let Louis take care of the steaming pan that’s threatening to fog up the entire room. Their whole interaction today screams <em>domesticity</em> and Louis <em>loves</em> it. </p><p> </p><p><br/>The meal is good, great even, way better than Louis had expected. To be fair, he’s got to give Harry some credits because he was the one to season the almost finished dish. </p><p><br/>Later, when they’re cleaning up the mess Louis left in the kitchen, Gemma comes home to go change and tell Louis goodbye before he’s off to the airport. She steps into the kitchen the second Louis is rubbing his wet hands right in Harry’s face and when they both eventually realise she’s present, she’s got the <em>caught ya!</em> face on again. </p><p><br/>Their goodbye is short but genuine and when Louis hugs her, she says she hopes to see him again soon.<em> I want to be part of their family</em>, Louis thinks, and it’s a dangerous thought. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Louis gets up picked up by a driver shortly after that, and Harry tags a long. The drive to LAX is longer from Harry’s mansion than it would’ve been from the hotel Louis was originally booked in, but that only means more time with Harry so he’s not complaining. </p><p><br/>There’s easy smalltalk flowing between the two of them and, sadly, next to no touching until they arrive at the airport and Harry’s hand once again resumes to his position on Louis’ lower back. It’s like it’s become muscle memory, or something. </p><p><br/>Then, shortly before Louis enters the area that non-costumors can’t access, Harry slows them down until they’re standing still. Before Louis can question what’s up, Harry’s lips are on his, kissing him goodbye. Without thinking, Louis closes his eyes and leans his head to the right, deepening the kiss. </p><p><br/>When he opens his eyes again, he subtly tries to check for people watching them, but can’t find anyone other than a couple who looks like they’re undecided whether they really are looking at Harry Styles and his boyfriend. </p><p><br/>Harry’s hand cradles Louis’ cheek gently and he’s miliseconds from pressing against it like a cat who’s being petted. </p><p><br/>The lady on the speaker says something about his flight, and Louis knows they don’t have a lot of time but still leans up to kiss Harry again, who engages easily. He wishes it would be Harry going for it, but he doesn’t so Louis takes it into his own hand and tentatively slips his tongue between Harry’s lips. Right in the middle of LAX airport, like nothing in the world is bothering them. </p><p><br/>Harry follows along easily and he’s <em>good</em> at this, eliciting a little soft sound from Louis. In case this is for show - dang, they’re so rocking it. </p><p><br/>In the end, like every time when something amazing ends, they need to tend to the real world. Harry’s driver is still waiting outside and Louis’ plane is ready to board. </p><p><br/>“Text me when you’ve landed, yeah?” </p><p><br/>“Okay,” Louis breathes before reluctantly taking a step back, trying to catch a deep breath. If kissing Harry means getting no oxygen though, who <em>really</em> needs to breathe anyway?</p><p><br/>The last thing Louis actively registers in America is Harry waving him goodbye, a wide smile plastered on his face. The rest of the way to the plane Louis is too caught in his head to focus on his environment. How fortunate that he’s got a 10.5 hours non-stop flight to think about what the fuck exactly he’s got going on with Harry. </p><p> </p><p><br/>Arriving at home is like waking up in a completely different realism. He doesn’t even land in Manchester but in London, and still. The weather is different, Louis’ week of paid holidays is officially over and the real problems at home are jumping straight into his face. </p><p><br/>First one on the long list: finding a job asap. </p><p><br/>He granted himself some time off the matter during his time in America, but now, there’s no more running from it. His parents are supportive, but they won’t let him go on like this forever. <em>Louis</em> doesn’t want it to go on like this. Regardless of how things with Harry work out, Louis wants to be able to support himself, be able to rent a flat himself with the money he makes at his job. </p><p><br/>So, he finds himself sending out countless applications to possible employers in the region. He won’t see Harry for almost three weeks, the whole rest of the North American tour, which is the second to last day of April. The Grammys fall on the third of May though, so Louis doubts Harry will come to England in the short few days before that. </p><p> </p><p><br/>On the positive side though, Harry and Louis start texting more often, even initiated by Harry whenever he’s not doing a show or travelling and the time zones make it possible. They talk about their days, how Louis’ become his parents’ personal house elf, how Harry ships two members of his sound crew. </p><p><br/>Louis misses Harry. He misses him and he can’t get over his crush. Maybe he also doesn’t even want to try, because what if they’ll just pick up where they left off at LAX?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Do you think he might like me back?” Louis asks his best mate. It’s a warm spring evening and they just called it a night. Playing footie with the lads was an activity Louis desperately needed. </p><p><br/>Stan sighs, pulling on his jacket before sitting down next to Louis on the bench. “I don’t know, Lou. I haven’t even met him in person.”</p><p><br/>He’s right, Louis knows. He sighs. The lamps usually enlighting the footie pitch are off as there’s no team practicing currently. </p><p><br/>“What would you like your answer to be?”</p><p><br/>“Yes, obviously. Is there ever a case where you <em>don’t</em> want your crush to work out?”</p><p><br/>Silence falls over them, his best friend obviously hesitating to reply. </p><p><br/>“I’m not trying to talk you out of anything, Lou. I support you in everything you do, and you know that. But rationally, do you think you could work in the long run?” When Louis doesn’t responds immeaditely, he adds “I’m not doubting it, or anything. I just want to hear your honest opinion.”</p><p><br/>“I don’t know, Stan. He’s a stadium selling popstar travelling the world. I don’t even have a job. And when I find a job I need to settle down… kind of. Like, there’s no way for me to find a job in my field that makes it possible to fly all over the world. And even then - matching time tables with Harry would be crazy.”</p><p><br/>Stan nods along, face passive but considerate. </p><p><br/>“See, that’s what I’m worrying about. No matter how well you two fit, there’s no ignoring the fact that you lead two very, very different lives when you’re not currently working for him.”</p><p><br/>“But people have done it before, haven’t they?“</p><p><br/>“Some have… but a lot of celebrities have celebrity partners as well. Believe me, I see the names every day. But if you think this is going to work, go for it.”</p><p><br/>It’s not like Louis doesn’t know all that. Of course he does. Sometimes, especially when you’re infatuated with someone, you just don’t want to see it though. Louis’ probably in that phase of denial right now.</p><p><br/>“This doesn’t sound very encouraging.”</p><p><br/>Next to him, Stan shakes his head, facing him now. “That’s not what I was saying. I just want you to be careful. Life can be unfair sometimes and you don’t deserve to have your heart broken.”</p><p><br/>Mum, Louis nods curtly. He doesn’t sleep very well that night. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After attending the Grammy awards - and sadly not winning anything - Harry gets some time home with his family before the European leg of the tour kicks off. </p><p><br/>The second day he’s in Holmes Chapel and halfway successful with getting his jetlag under control, he facetimes Louis. For the first time ever. They talk about the Grammys and Harry’s favourite shows and it feels good to ask more in depth instead of just scratching the surface and not wanting to be annoying. Neither of them stop smiling through the whole facetime call and even Louis’ mum comments on his happiness when he comes downstairs afterwards. </p><p> </p><p><br/>The Europe leg kicks off in Basel and while Harry definitely deserves some time to breathe, Louis’ also excited for him to start performing again because it means he can start counting down the days until he sees Harry in person again. Stockholm is the third stop on Harry’s tour list, and the first date Louis joins him. </p><p><br/>To say he’s excited would be an understatement. He’s ecstatic, despite his doubts. The flight from Manchester to Stockholm takes only two and a half hours, which is still long but nothing compared to the oversea flights he’s done recently. </p><p><br/>Louis only arrives in the afternoon, a couple hours before Harry’s going to step on stage, so they don’t have much time to chat before the show. The stage set-up is almost the same, Harry’s outfit similar to the style he’s worn before but the vibe is kind of different. Amazing, the fans singing and screaming along, and maybe Louis only hallucinates it, but it feels different than America. </p><p><br/>Harry sings Stockholm Syndrome and the crowd obviously loves it. Louis on the other side feels like it fits personally. Harry’s got him captured, too. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>When Harry steps off stage, and Louis joins him backstage to be taken home to the same hotel, Harry asks him to come to his hotel room later. Louis agrees before Harry is able to finish his sentence. </p><p><br/>“Hi. Are you ready or do you want me to go back to my room for some more?” Louis greets as Harry opens the door, in sport shorts and a plain black shirt, hair still wet from his post-gig shower. </p><p><br/>“Nah, c’min.”</p><p><br/>The room’s furniture is modern, a humongous flat screen dangling from the wall, remote controls for every kind of technology resting on Harry’s bed stand. </p><p><br/>“Have a seat,” Harry offers. “Want some room service? A beer?”</p><p><br/>“Beer and some schnapps?” Louis grins innocently. “Does room service cover that? I feel so nervous, hanging with <em>the</em> Harry Styles, you know?”</p><p><br/>“Didn’t take you for a nervous drinker, but your word is my command.”</p><p><br/>So that’s how they’re well on the way to getting pleasently buzzed. Alcohol is expensive in Scandinavia, especially in a fancy hotel like this, but Harry tells him not to worry about it, that he’s got it covered. </p><p><br/>“I’ve got something for you,” Harry mumbles and sets down his fruity beer mix. </p><p><br/>“Mh?”</p><p><br/>Rumaging in his bag, he returns to the bed with something hidden behind his back. </p><p><br/>“My birthday was in December.”</p><p><br/>“I know. But I wanted to give this to you anyway. Didn’t want to wait until your next birthday.”</p><p><br/>Harry produces an envelope from behind his back and holds it out for Louis to take. Louis’ eyes flicker up to where Harry’s standing over him shortly, then accepts the sleek, blank present. Carefully, he turns it around in his hands and opens it. </p><p><br/>He’s unable to form words when he pulls out the Hamilton London tickets, just staring down at the two pieces of paper. </p><p><br/>“Are you serious?”</p><p><br/>“Yeah,” Harry beams. “Do you like it?”</p><p><br/>“Do I <em>like</em> it? Of course I like it! How did you even get them?”</p><p><br/>“Business secret,” Harry smirks, his tongue peeking out. </p><p><br/>“Thank you so much, Harry. I don’t even know how to thank you properly.”</p><p><br/>Well, there’s a few ways he <em>can</em> think of, but he’s not going to say them out loud. </p><p><br/>“You don’t need to, really. I wanted to do this for you, I don’t expect anything back.”</p><p>And Louis believes it. He’ll never get over how genuine Harry is, because he really didn’t need to do this. He makes people happy because he wants to, because it makes him happy too, and there’s no further ulterior motive. That’s a thing that makes him subjectively better than a lot of celebrities and other people Louis knows outside the entertainment industry. </p><p> </p><p>When Louis finally sets the tickets down on Harry’s nightstand, cautiously stuffed back into the envelope, he shuffles to the side so Harry fits next to him. Smiling, without taking their eyes off each other, it feels like they’re getting closer and closer. Harry's pupils are large thanks to the little light in the room and probably also thanks to the alcohol consumption, and his eyes practically sparkle.</p><p><br/>All of Louis’ inner organs do triple somersaults when Harry raises his hand to gently cup his cheek, motivating him to close the distance between their faces. The first touch of their lips is soft, so, so soft, like the softest pillow Louis owns. They don’t speak, but they don’t need words to know that they both want this right now. </p><p><br/>Breaking apart for a second, they stay close nonetheless. Harry smiles at him dopely. </p><p><br/>“Now that’s a way to say thank you.”</p><p><br/>Louis wishes he could be his spontaneous, petty self, throwing around come-backs before having a second thought, but kissing Harry seems to de-active the brain areas necessary for that. Not that he cares - he didn’t come to Harry’s room to think. </p><p><br/>Before Louis runs the risk of the situation ending like this, he leans forward to kiss Harry again while slowly pushing him backwards. When his back hits the duvet, Harry also shuffles sideways so his head is bedded on the pillow, pulling Louis along with him so he’s carefully hovering over him. It’s pretty intense, the most intimate position they’ve been in so far and Louis’ nerve endings are on fire. </p><p><br/>“Looks like it’s true what they say: I’m a pretty laid back guy,” Harry grins with both arms crossed behind his head. </p><p><br/>Louis groans and slaps his shoulder fondly, rearranging his legs and positioning himself so that one of his legs is between Harry’s but decidedly keeping an inch of distance between their bodies. </p><p><br/>“Shut up,” he mumbles and dives down again to capture Harry’s lips. Making out with Harry is a sensual experience through and through and elicits a satisfied sound from Louis. His weight is balanced on his elbows as he tries not to shiver too much, but doesn’t need to worry when Harry takes the matter into his own hands - quite literally - and grabs Louis’ back to push him completely down on top of him. </p><p><br/>“Mh,” Harry makes and tilts his head to the side, both of his cheeks covered by Louis’ hands while his own hands are slowly wandering down Louis’ backside, always giving him a chance to back out. Of course he doesn’t, though, barely being able to process the waves of arousal flowing through him into every last corner of his body. Trying not to focus on that in order to keep his dick from poking Harry in the hip, he slips his tongue into Harry’s mouth, but it has the opposite effect as Harry takes that as an invitation to grab his arse in both of his big hands, effectively pressing him closer. </p><p><br/>They move like two magnets, which is cheesy, Louis thinks, but kind of true. When one moves, the other moves in the exact same manner, adjusting. </p><p><br/>Burying his hands in Harry’s still damp locks, Louis can’t help but reposition himself, chasing the pleasure. Tilting his hips to the left slightly, he feels that Harry is just as affected as him, spurring him on even more. </p><p><br/>This is the point of no return, and they have to decide now which way to follow: calm down or just <em>go for it. </em></p><p><br/>The moan coming from Harry when their dicks accidentally press together through all the layers of fabric decides for them. Louis shudders and his legs twitch uncontrolled when Harry grabs him by the hips to direct him so that they lay perfectly on top of each other. </p><p><br/>Needing a chance to breathe, Louis breaks their kiss that’s been getting progressively more frantic. </p><p><br/>“Yeah?” he breathes, focusing on Harry’s left, then right eye to check for his state. </p><p><br/>“Yeah,” Harry grunts in response, just as overwhelmed by the feelings running through him. </p><p><br/>Their movements only get wilder after that, grinding against each other in need of release, especially when Louis hooks his leg over Harry’s hip and allows them more leverage. Neither of them knows how much time has passed, but at some point, when both of them rush faster and faster towards the peak, Harry breaks the kiss and just starts lapping wetly at Louis’ neck, causing him to buck his hips down even more frantically. </p><p><br/>The little <em>uh, uh, uhs</em> sounding from Harry increase in frequency, Louis breathing just as heavily when their cocks rub against each other particularly deliciously. </p><p><br/>“Mhhpf,” Louis makes instead of a warning that he’s close, but it’s enough to convey the message. </p><p><br/>For a lucid second, he can’t believe he’s actually getting off with Harry. They’ve been dancing around each other for days, weeks now, for a lack of better words, and a night of privacy and a couple drinks is all it took to get them here.</p><p><br/>Louis climaxes shortly before Harry, whose hips buck up against him a couple more times before following him suit. It takes them minutes to come down from their high, both breathing laborously. Louis feels Harry’s heart still beating fast where his head is resting on the muscular chest of Harry’s. He hasn’t got anything to say when he slowly rolls off, cringing slightly at the stickiness in his pants. </p><p><br/>Harry’s hands come to rest on his stomach, closing his eyes for a minute before pushing himself up to clean himself up in the bathroom, grabbing a new pair of briefs on the way there. </p><p><br/>“D’you want to borrow some joggers?” he looks up to Louis from where he’s crouching next to his suit case. </p><p><br/>Louis nods. “If you don’t mind.”</p><p><br/>“I don’t,” Harry says as he throws his grey joggers over. Waiting for Harry to clear the bathroom, Louis tries to process what just happened. <em>We just dry humped each other into a mutual orgasm. </em></p><p><br/>To no one’s surprise, Harry returns in just his underpants, obviously intending to sleep that way. With tired eyes, he gestures towards the bathroom and smiles at Louis. </p><p><br/>“Bathroom’s free.”</p><p><br/>In the bathroom Louis notices that Harry didn’t offer him pants, so he just goes commando underneath the joggers. He has to refrain from smelling them because they surely would smell like Harry, but he’s not that much of a creep. Unsure where he’d spend the night, he opens the door with his dirty clothes still in his hands, spotting Harry already tucked into bed. </p><p><br/>Usually he doesn’t just stay the night unsolicited, but Harry’s drooly eyes and the hand patting the space next to him feel very inviting, edging him to leave the laundry on the bathroom counter. </p><p><br/>“Are you okay with me staying here?” he checks nonetheless when he’s about to slip under the covers as well. </p><p><br/>“More than,” is the last thing he hears from the boy he’s just shared an orgasm with, voice smiley and laced with sleepiness. Understandably, with all the exhaustion coming with doing a show. </p><p><br/>So that’s how this night, Louis doesn’t leave. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next morning they’re woken up by a call on Harry’s phone, who turns out to be his sister who desperately needs to know where Harry stored the fairy lights she and their mum wants to put up on their terrace. When the issue is solved, Harry just jumps out of bed like he wanted to get up anyways, which Louis seriously admires. He knows he needs to get ready, but he wouldn’t vote against resting his eyes another couple minutes. Or hours. </p><p>His flight back home is already that noon. It’s a waste, especially from an oecological point of view, and Louis feels horrible about it. Harry’s next stop is Oslo and Louis’ already join him again in just five days in Amsterdam, but flying off still feels wrong, especially after the new level of relationship they’d achieved last night. Sadly, Harry can’t accompany Louis to the airport because he needs to head off already, but they still share a sort of passionate kiss when Louis leaves Harry’s hotel room, still in Harry’s joggers. </p><p> </p><p><br/>At home, his parents are curious about his trip to Sweden, asking him a couple questions before sending him off to Asda to grab some groceries. </p><p><br/>He starts a group phone call with Stan and Oli on the way there, deciding to walk after sitting on the plane for a couple hours. </p><p><br/>“Whaddup, world traveller?” Stan greets him the same time as Oli says “Did you bring me some Marabou chocolates?”</p><p><br/>“Hello to you too, Oli. And no, I didn’t have time to go souvenir shopping for you.”</p><p><br/>“Because you were busy shagging your co-worker.”</p><p><br/>Stan coughs, trying to cover his laugh unsuccessfully. </p><p><br/>“He’s not denying it! He’s not denying it!”</p><p><br/>“I’m not <em>shagging</em> him,” Louis reacts in a calm voice, not wanting anyone on the street to overhear him. “Not quite. And don’t call him my co-worker.”</p><p><br/>“Not quite? Explain yourself, Tommo.”</p><p><br/>“Mind the tmi, though,” Oli throws in. Louis’ already close to the Asda parking lot, so he doesn’t want an innocent child or mother to overhear them anyway. </p><p><br/>“I went over to Harry’s hotel room last night and we kind of, uh… we kind of made out?” he tries to describe it in a child friendly way. </p><p><br/>“You… made out?”</p><p><br/>“… intensly.”</p><p><br/>“Ayyy, go get it,” Oli cheers and reminds Louis a lot of Niall’s reaction when he found out Louis would be kipping at Harry’s. It’s been months since that night, he realises.</p><p><br/>Stan opts to stay quiet, and because it’s not a video call Louis can’t visibly see his reaction. He can imagine it though, his best friend always worrying about him. </p><p><br/>“I’m at Asda now, I’ll text you when I’m back home. Maybe we can meet up this weekend before I’m off to the Netherlands?”</p><p><br/>Both his friends agree and to everyone’s surprise they actually manage to find a fitting time to meet up later that week, the evening before Louis’ off on his way to Amsterdam. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Amsterdam is exactly like Louis remembers it from the time the three of them went there for a lads holiday - just as liberal as the whole of the Netherlands. Concerning anything, really. To his delight, Harry and Louis have got a free day there after his show tonight, a pap walk included. </p><p><br/>Louis finds it super endearing how Harry always tries to greet the crowds in their native language, and the Amsterdam show is no exception. </p><p><br/>“Hoi, leuk jullie te zien.” Neither Harry nor Louis know whether it’s correct, in grammar or pronounciation, as it’s ripped straight off Google translate, but it’s the thought that counts. The fans love it either way.</p><p><br/>“Dutch is a bit like a mixture of German and English when you’re drunk,” Harry jokes. “But I don’t speak German and I’m also not drunk, so that’s the best I can do, sorry.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Some crew member of Harry’s had sneaked off to one of Amsterdam’s infamous coffee shops to bring some weed before the soundcheck, and Harry is given a substantial amount of it. </p><p><br/>That night, they smoke outside on Harry’s balcony until they’re pleasently buzzed but not completely off the rail. Laying down on their backs, appreciating the expensive big ass bed, they look up to the ceiling like they can see the starry night sky. <em>Harry would probably love to see the Starry Night by van Gogh,</em> Louis thinks. Ironically, that’s currently displayed in New York. </p><p><br/>At some point Louis considers whipping out his phone to put on some light music for the background, to drown out the oppressive silence, but right then, Harry starts up some deeptalk.  </p><p><br/>“Do you ever wonder what your future’s going to look like?”</p><p><br/>Louis turns his head to look at Harry, who continues staring upwards. “Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”</p><p><br/>“I guess.”</p><p><br/>“What do you want in your future?”</p><p><br/>Pondering his answer for a second, Harry pulls a face, resting his head on his crossed arms, his long legs dangling over the edge of the bed while Louis’ are bent. </p><p><br/>“Be the best person I can be.”</p><p><br/>Louis snorts. “That’s such a hipstery answer.“</p><p><br/>Harry turns his head now, grinning at Louis. “What do you want then?”</p><p><br/>“Settle down. At some point at least. Have a little house, a loving husband, a stable job and a pet or two. Maybe children, who knows. The cheesy stereotype.”</p><p><br/>Instead of commenting on Louis’ average family dream, Harry chooses to focus on something else. </p><p><br/>“What kind of pet?”</p><p><br/>“A dog, obviously.”</p><p><br/>“What would you call the dog?“</p><p><br/>“Hamilton,” Lous replies with a grin, eliciting a chuckle from Harry. They’re silent for a while, neither of them daring to break the moment of just looking straight into each other’s eyes. </p><p><br/>“I could imagine that too,” Harry speaks up eventually, sighing. “But it’s kinda hard with my job. And I love it, I really do. I don't see myself stoping anytime soon. We’ll see how it all works out.“</p><p><br/>Louis’ face becomes thoughtful. The thing is, Harry is right. It’s easy for Louis to dream of all those humane things, but Harry tours the world and lives on two different continents and has next to no regular daily routine. But others have done it before, haven’t they? It’s not impossible for a successful musician to have a loving partner that’s not famous and stays at home with a regular 9-5 job, right?</p><p><br/>“I’m sure you’ll achieve everything in life you want. I wish you the very best, at least,” Louis says instead of all the things he really wants to say. Harry’s smile just intensifies, his dimples popping and eyes sparkling. </p><p><br/>Louis kisses him without warning. Harry definitely doesn’t mind, mirroring his actions without needing time to process what's going on. The kiss turns dirty quite quickly, and it’s just as intense as their snogging session in Stockholm. </p><p><br/>Scrambling higher up the bed with Harry hovering above him, neither of them care that they’re lying parallel to the headboard. The bed is big enough anyways. As Louis buries his hands in the brown curls to pull Harry down further into the kiss, Harry brackets his face with his own hands. He slips his tongue inside Louis’ mouth at the same time he wiggles his legs between Louis, causing him to spread them willingly. </p><p><br/>The second Harry’s semi-hard cock first presses against Louis’, they both moan quietly. It’s good and it’s hot and Louis doesn’t ever want to stop. It’s unclear where this night is going, whether they’re just going to rub off on each other again or maybe dare to go further thist time because neither of them is showing a sign of initiating the next step. Harry’s into it, sure, but Louis wants him to start, wants him to tug on Louis’ shirt, to slip his fingers into Louis’ (Harry’s) joggers.</p><p><br/>“Come on, Harry.”</p><p><br/>Faltering in his movements, Harry pushes himself up onto his elbows, keeping his face so close to Louis’ their noses are almost touching. It looks like he wants to say something, ask something maybe. </p><p><br/>In the end, all he does is sneak one hand down to Louis’ stomach, rucking up his shirt and helping him pull it over his head. Louis’ breathing heavily, twitching away from the other man’s touch when he tickles his fingers down from the collar bones to his waistband. </p><p><br/>“’m ticklish,” he explains, not wanting Harry to think he’s backing off. </p><p><br/>“I know.” Harry grins as he continues touching his skin softly. It’s nice and all, but not where he wants the attention. He bucks his hips up, nudging his hard dick into Harry’s thigh as a reminder. </p><p><br/>“Come on,” he repeats impatiently. </p><p><br/>Obeying, Harry slips off his own shirt, throwing it in the general direction of his suit case. Louis only has a few seconds to admire Harry’s fit upper body, covered in the tattoos millions of fans are drooling over, before a hand cups his cock, stroking him leasurely through the joggers’ thick fabric. A choked off sound escapes his mouth involuntarily, and Harry smirks smugly. With every desperate movement of Louis’ hips, Harry teasingly inches the trackies a bit further down his hips. </p><p><br/>“Harry,” he whines.</p><p><br/>“Shush.”</p><p><br/>With that, both his boxers and joggers are removed in one go, leaving him completely naked as he hadn’t worn socks in the first place. </p><p><br/>“You too, please.”</p><p><br/>Harry fiddles with the bow of his chic dress pants-like trousers before he can take them off, effectively tugging off his briefs and socks as well before slowly and cautiously lowering himself in the same position he’d been in before. The sensation of skin on skin is maddening, makes Louis’ leg tingle so much he can barely keep them still. </p><p><br/>“D’you have stuff here?” Louis murmurs when Harry buries his head near his shoulder. </p><p><br/>“Yeah.“</p><p><br/>It takes a couple more seconds before Harry pushes himself up reluctantly, obviously mourning the loss of skin contact, and hurries off the bed to rumage in his suit case. Louis’ got a hand wrapped around himself when Harry returns with lube and a condom, but who can blame him at the sight of Harry’s backside? No one, that’s who. </p><p><br/>“Cm’ere.”</p><p><br/>“At your command,” Harry replies and salutes. Apparently sex with Harry is like that - sensual and hot and soft and communication and <em>fun. </em></p><p><br/>They snog some more but it goes without words that the items Harry had just placed on the bed wouldn’t remain unused for long. In fact, he’s already fumbling for them while he’s licking into Louis’ mouth. </p><p><br/>“Are you sure you want this?” </p><p><br/>With confidence, Louis nods. “Yes.”</p><p><br/>“Alright,” Harry breathes and shuffles downwards. He gets to work wordlessly and the first cool touch of his lube coated finger against Louis’ entrance makes him flinch. Harry’s gentle though, taking his time prepping him and not speeding the process for his own pleausure. He’s not wearing his rings, but his fingers are long and thick, guaranteeing Louis the friction he desperately craves. </p><p><br/>Three fingers in, Harry can’t withstand the temptation of touching himself, and as soon as Louis notices, he gives him the go. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m good.”</p><p><br/>“You sure?”</p><p><br/>“Yeah.”</p><p><br/>Closing his eyes when his dick catches onto Louis’ hole after pulling on the condom, Harry positions himself so it’s most comfortable for both of them. </p><p><br/>“Tell me to stop and I will.”</p><p><br/>Louis hums in pleasure when Harry pushes in the first bit. “That’s nice but I doubt I will,” he brings out between laboured breaths. </p><p><br/>Harry’s good at this. Of course he is. He takes it slow for Louis’ sake, until Louis edges him on to go faster. His whole body feels like those prickly ice lollies exploding in his mouth and there’s no way he can regain control over his hip movements. He doesn’t want to either - pushing down against Harry while he pushes up, that’s all Louis wants to feel for the rest of his life. </p><p><br/>Hot pleasure washes over him and he closes his legs tighter around Harry’s thighs, pulling him further inside. </p><p><br/>“Uh,” Harry moans, obviously feeling more than good himself. The sounds coming from both of them are obscene, lewd and matching the rhythm of Harry pressing Louis down into the mattress. Good thing they’re in an expensive hotel with hopefully soundproof walls. </p><p><br/>“I’m close.” Louis groans when Harry successfully nails his spot repeatedly, feeling the pressure in his lower belly grow. He doesn’t remember the last time nearing an orgasm felt <em>this</em> good. </p><p><br/>Instead of an answer Louis gets an increase in speed and change in angle and that’s what he needs to nudge him over the edge. With his hole tightening around Harry’s cock so deliciously, it doesn’t take long until the other man follows him suit, hips pausing, hands gripping the sheets beneath them. </p><p><br/>They both need significantly longer to calm down from their highs than when they were getting off in Stockholm, that’s how good it is. Harry softly nips on Louis’ shoulder before returning to his mouth, pecking his swollen lips. Louis’ heart swells. It’ll literally break his fucking heart if Harry decides that this was a one time thing, but for now, he doesn’t have any clue to believe that he feels that way. </p><p><br/>They shower together, no funny business because they’re both tired from the day, plus the added horizontal exercising. Louis can’t help but steal a few kisses though when they’re both done washing off all the sweat and filth.</p><p>It’s not even a question that Louis' going to spend the night. Apparently Harry sleeps naked when he’s alone or around someone he’s comfortable enough with, but lends Louis a pair of pants without him needing to ask. </p><p><br/>Sadly, they don’t spoon or the like, but Louis gets it. They haven’t spoken about anything, they don’t know where they’re standing with each other and Harry’s almost falling asleep the second his head hits the pillow. Leaning over to give him a soft goodnight kiss, Louis smiles as Harry’s beautiful eyes flutter open shortly, a lazy grin spreading on his face. </p><p><br/>“Good night, Harry.”</p><p><br/>“Night Lou.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When they wake up the next morning, rays of sun are shining through the windows because they hadn’t bothered to fully draw the curtains in front of them. There wasn’t a risk of anyone accidentally seeing what’s going in on the inside, and they obviously were busy otherwise. </p><p><br/>Harry awakes first, unsurprisingly, and sits up in bed to take a sip from the bottle stored on his night stand. </p><p><br/>“Mmh, morning,” Louis mumbles when he peeks one eye open. </p><p><br/>Harry grins at him when he sees how dozy Louis looks, hair tousled and drool drying on his lips. </p><p><br/>“Good morning.”</p><p><br/>“Time’s it?”</p><p><br/>“8.30, I think.“</p><p><br/>“Ugh.” Louis closes his eyes again. “What time’s the pap walk?”</p><p><br/>“Noon. We’re getting traditional dutch pannekoeken. Or that was the plan, but if you don’t like it we can find something else to eat?”</p><p><br/>Without opening his eyes, Louis shakes his head. “No, pancakes are fine by me.”</p><p><br/>He gives himself a couple minutes to get used to the light in the hotel room before turning onto his back. Harry’s eyes are on him where he’s staring at the ceiling, like they did yesterday night. </p><p><br/>“What are you thinking about?”</p><p><br/>Louis sighs, hesitating. Where does he even start? There’s about a thousand thoughts running through his head and he doesn’t know how Harry thinks about these matters. </p><p><br/>“A lot.”</p><p><br/>“For example?”</p><p><br/>“What we’re going to do.”</p><p><br/>Honesty is key, so Louis opts for that. He doesn’t dare looking over to Harry, especially when he doesn’t get a response immeaditely. </p><p><br/>“Do you think taking it a step further was a mistake?” A hint of fear laces his voice and that’s literally the last thing Louis wants. </p><p><br/>“No!” he states clearly. “I think I’d want to… to, like, try it? You know? But it's fully your decision,” he adds. </p><p><br/>Harry shuffles, changing the way he’s sitting so he’s fully facing the other man is his bed. His face is serious when he speaks up. </p><p><br/>“It’s not though. Just because I’m the celebrity in this relationship doesn’t mean my opinion is worth more.”</p><p><br/>Rolling onto his side, Louis returns the thoughtful look. </p><p><br/>“Then let’s try… this?” </p><p><br/>It comes out more like a question, and he’s not far from adding a <em>maybe?</em>, but the corners of Harry’s mouth shoot up, revealing his dimples. He looks heavenly like that, curly hair, red lips, no clothes, white sheets pooling around his hips.</p><p><br/>“Okay.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...Hi everyone!<br/>I hope you're all doing well and enjoyed reading!<br/>There's one last chapter planned for now, I'll see how that goes. :D</p><p>I'm aware there's a few typos in this story and my other one as well (check it out if you're into student!Harry crushing on dancer!Louis, uni AU), but I don't have a beta so I'll proofread them when this story is done. </p><p>Until next time! x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>The transition from “colleagues” of some sort to … more is a bit awkward at times, when neither of them know how to act or how to go about being in public, but Louis wouldn’t have it any other way. In the end, the rest of his stay in Amsterdam is like a we-finally-figured-it-out-honeymoon and AB-PR actually praises them for their believable interaction during the pap shots. Well, if they only knew. But for now, both Louis and Harry agreed that they’d keep it a secret from the high horses. </p><p><br/>The six days between Amsterdam and Madrid are mainly spent on his phone, at least on Louis’ side. Now that there’s only one hour of time difference between their locations, communication is a lot easier, aside from Harry obviously being heavily busy with performing every other night.</p><p><br/>Even if it’s still new, the thing between them, overcoming the inhibitions to text <em>I miss you</em> or<em> Do you want to talk later?</em> is easier now as well. Why wouldn’t it? One shouldn’t feel shame for wanting to talk to their boyfriend, unless they’re being unreasonably needy and Louis is careful not to become that.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Harry: When are you arriving?</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: Around 4 I think</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Harry: Good! I want to take you out for dinner</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>Harry: If you’re up for it, of course. </strong>
</p><p><br/>Texts like that remind Louis how amazing of a boyfriend Harry is. Not that he ever forgets, it’s just - Harry gives him a constant reminder of how serious he takes it and that he’s not just doing it for the sex but because he genuinely likes caring for people, likes the intimacy. And it’s feels more than amazing to be on the receiving side of it. </p><p><br/>With an uncontrollable smile on his face, Louis types his reply.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: of course I’m up for it :)</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>Louis: I’m boarding soon, see you later xxx</strong>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Harry: see you soon xxx</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Madrid is different than Louis had imagined it, which is fair considering he’s only ever really seen pictures and videos of its football stadiums and not the actual city, but he still enjoys it. The dinner date isn’t scheduled and there’s no paps waiting for them, a welcome change. Of course they can’t run from the fans recognising them, but that’s bearable. </p><p><br/>Harry takes him to some cute little local restaurant that serves typical Spanish specialities. Most of them include seafood or big amounts of meat so Harry opts for the vegetarian quesadillas, while Louis waits for the waiter to bring him a menu in English. </p><p><br/>“How did you even figure out what you like so fast?”</p><p><br/>Harry shrugs. “Spanish is similar to Italian. Plus, Google’s your friend,” he grins and holds up his phone to show that he’s got google translate opened. </p><p><br/>In that moment the waiter returns with a menu for Louis and he takes some minutes to flick through it. It’s definitely seen better days, but it only adds to the charme. He settles for <em>huevos estrellados</em>, a dish with eggs, potatoes and ham when a lot of the other options seem like… an acquired taste. </p><p><br/>Harry’s gaze sways past Louis occasionally, and the third time he notices it he can’t help but question.</p><p><br/>“Everything okay? You seem a bit … unfocused?”</p><p><br/>Instantly, Harry’s eyes fly to his face again. “Yeah, yeah,” he nods. “There are just two girls behind you, trying to take sneaky pictures.”</p><p><br/>Without thinking, Louis turns around, finding two girls sitting behind him, staring at him with their phones in their hands under the pretense of taking selfies. They look horrified when they realise Harry’s figured out they’re taking pictures and drop their phones to the table, digging into their meals without daring to look in their direction again. </p><p><br/>When Louis turns to face Harry again, the other man is laughing. </p><p><br/>“What?“</p><p><br/>“You totally scared them off.”</p><p><br/>Louis grins. “Good. Don’t want to worry about having ugly pictures of my back on the internet when I’m trying to enjoy my dinner date with you.”</p><p> </p><p>When they’re done eating and chatting about the past week, they go for a stroll through the city. It’s hotter than Louis anticipated, being dressed way too warm with a long sleeved shirt and a jacket he’s now carrying around. </p><p><br/>“Ugh, why’s it so hot?”</p><p><br/>Chuckling, Harry looks over to him, eyes covered by dark sunglasses, probably to make his face less recognisable. It’s sort of useless, considering his tattoo covered arms are on full display. Not that Louis’ complaining about<em> that. </em></p><p><br/>“Well let’s see, it’s May, we’re in southern Europe and Madrid is located in the middle of the country with no sea breeze possible at all. Of course it’s hot.”</p><p><br/>“Nerd.”</p><p><br/>When Harry sticks out his tongue at Louis, he mirrors it. (That night, some dude posts a zoomed in photo of that exact scene on twitter and people <em>love</em> it.)</p><p><br/>It’s silly and funny and cute and Louis just wants to kiss Harry so that’s what he does, right there, in the middle of the street somewhere in Madrid. Harry smiles into the kiss, pressing his chest forward so they’re as close as they can be. His hands travel up to Louis’ neck, thumbs caressing his jaw gently while he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side. </p><p><br/>It’s a short decision for Louis to let his own hands slide down Harry’s back, first lingering around his lower back before his fingers start teasing the waistband of Harry’s jeans. He keeps it relatively public friendly, refraining from just grabbing Harry’s arse, but anyone who’s stalking them right now can fuck off anyway. </p><p><br/>Harry<em> giggles</em> when Louis sneaks one finger tip between jeans and underpants, effectively breaking the kiss but keeping his boyfriend close. The wide dimpled smile never leaves his face, eyes glistening as much as his kissable mouth. </p><p><br/>“You’re cute,” Harry smiles and wow, he’s such a sap. </p><p><br/>“You’re hot.” </p><p><br/>Harry chuckles but doesn’t answer visibly, just leans down to engage Louis in a kiss again. </p><p><br/>“You know what’s also hot? Those churros over there that I’ve been ogling while you’ve been slobbering all over me.”</p><p><br/>Harry’s eyes follow Louis’, and there’s indeed a street vendor selling churros with whatever the heart desires, attracting many hungry or not so hungry people. Louis looks up to him with a hopeful, innocent face, obviously trying to convince him to get some. </p><p><br/>“You want some?”</p><p><br/>“Kind of, yeah.”</p><p><br/>“With chocolate?” Harry asks, checking his pockets for his wallet and pulling it out when he feels it. </p><p><br/>“Kind of, yeah,” Louis repeats with a grin. </p><p><br/>“Alright,” Harry grins back, gives Louis a peck on the lips and grabs him by the hand to drag him over to the churros stand. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They obviously still have separate hotel rooms, but they don’t really use both. Despite Louis being booked into the hotel by Harry’s team or AB-PR or whoever organises these kind of things, Harry is still the celebrity and he gets the best suites so it only makes sense to choose his room for some privacy. </p><p><br/>The hotel is fancy, relatively central near Salamanca, close to a park and not too far from the WiZink Centre where Harry will be playing tomorrow. The window front of Harry’s fancy as fuck room faces the direction the sun will be setting over the city and you couldn’t plan it better if you tried. </p><p><br/>“How romantic,” Louis swoons ironically when he stands right in front of the window and oversees the streets below them. </p><p><br/>“Innit?” </p><p><br/>Harry approaches him from behind, closing his arms around Louis and kissing his neck lightly. Louis is sure - this is the safest he’ll ever feel. Great, now he’s become a loved up sap as well. </p><p><br/>Standing there together, Louis enjoys the sensation of Harry’s lips against his neck and shoulder and closes his eyes, letting his thoughts wander. It doesn’t stay that peaceful for long though, when Harry suddenly starts tickling his tummy, making him squeak in surprise. </p><p><br/>“Noo,” Louis whines and tries to wiggle out of Harry’s embrace. </p><p><br/>“Yess,” Harry mimics. </p><p><br/>“You really, really gotta stop tickling me all the time.”</p><p><br/>“I really, really don’t.”</p><p><br/>Harry’s grin is so wide his eyes are crinkling when Louis manages to turn around, chest pressed to Harry’s and thus giving him no chance to squeeze his hands between their bodies to continue tickling him. </p><p><br/>“There, I know other places you could put your hands on.” </p><p><br/>With that, Louis guides Harry’s hands to his lower back, where they’ve rested so many times before, but it’s clear Louis is encouraging Harry to travel further down if he’s up for it. Harry wets his lips with his tongue before leaning down to kiss him square on the mouth. </p><p><br/>“That’s a reasonable trade,” Harry says between kisses as his hands indeed follow the direction Louis had intended to go. And god does it feel good to have them cup Louis’ arse. He doesn’t know whether to press back into them or forwards into Harry’s kiss, but the difficult decision is taken from him when Harry pulls him in. </p><p><br/>“I think so too,” Louis agrees when he busies himself with untangling Harry’s hair that had previously been held up in a tiny pony tail slash bun slash whatever. It sticks up wildly when he slips the hair tie around his wrist and leans backwards to observe the mess on Harry’s head. He lovingly runs his fingers through the brown locks, lips curling up.</p><p><br/>Harry’s wearing one of his iconic button up shirts, summery colours and only three buttons done, but this way Louis has the collar to cling to. He definitely needs it, too, because kissing Harry is dizzying, especially when he starts squeezing his arse through his skinny jeans simultaneously to sliding their tongues together. </p><p><br/>In a matter of minutes, they’re moving rhythmically against each other, both humming with the increasing arousal. </p><p><br/>“Should’ve done this in front of those rude girls instead of staring back,” Louis mutters when they make their way over to the bed without looking where they’re stepping. In Louis’ room that would’ve made them stumble and fall because he had distributed half of his belongings strategically across the floor. </p><p><br/>“Should’ve done this in front of Owen when he was bitchin’.”</p><p><br/>Louis groans and pushes Harry down onto the freshly made bed. “Stop talking about Mr Price or I’ll leave.”</p><p><br/>“Alright, alright. Now cm’ere.” </p><p><br/>Making grabby hands, Harry pulls Louis down on top of him, guiding him to lay in the perfect position as they scramble up farther on the bed. The white sheets are softer than any hotel bed sheets Louis’ ever touched before and they smell incredibly fresh, but that’s not what his attention is channeled on right now. No, that’s Harry, who’s laying there with his arms crossed beneath his head, muscles bulging maddingly, a smug grin plastered on his face. </p><p><br/>“I hate you,” Louis huffs. </p><p><br/>“I’m sure you do,” Harry laughs. Stupidly beautiful Harry with his stupidly pretty laugh. Louis’ll make him stop laughing and lure his hands into moving, that’s for sure. Skillfully he shuffles up, looks Harry in the eyes and slowly sinks down right onto Harry’s crotch, eliciting a drawn out breath from him. </p><p><br/>Experimentally, he moves forwards and backwards, dragging against the bulge at the front of Harry’s trousers, knowing the exact effect it has on him. When Harry finally gives and pulls his arms away from under his hand, Louis grins triumphantly, sticking his tongue out. At that, Harry’s dimple pop, and he willingly places his hands on Louis’ hips, the warmth of his palms seeping into Louis’ skin despite the layers of clothing and reminding him that they’re still there. Which should be changed in the near future. </p><p><br/>“I wanna kiss you,” Louis whines, leaning down to pursue his ambitions. </p><p><br/>“Not saying no to that.”</p><p><br/>They pick up where the kissing left off, Louis’ thighs bracketing Harry’s hips tightly and tongue delving deep in Harry’s mouth, chasing the amazing feelings Harry makes him feel. He’s missed this over the past couple days, he could lay in bed and snog and touch and have sex with Harry all day, every day. And maybe admire him sing and play the guitar every once in a while, that’d be nice too. </p><p><br/>Needless to say, undressing is done in a matter of seconds, despite them barely separating enough to stop kissing, and also needless to say, making love (or whatever) in a hotel with an incredible view and warm orange-ish rays of sunset flowing through the window front, painting cozy light sprinkles across the walls and making for a cozy ambiente, is pretty spectecular. The sex would be good anywhere, even in the bushes under a bridge, but it is a nice extra. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>London is kind of like LA. Or at least Louis’ level of nervousness is, considering he’ll be meeting another family member of Harry’s and this time he’s not sure he’ll make friends with Harry’s mum as effortlessly as he did with Gemma. On top of that, a few friends of Harry’s from London join Louis and Anne in the private area backstage and later in the O2’s best VIP box. </p><p><br/>To Louis’ surprise, Harry tells him that his mum knows about them, and not only their PR arrangement. With this knowlege though it is understandable that she’s a bit careful in the beginning, behind the friendly face and same smile as Harry’s. </p><p> </p><p>“You must be Louis, then?“</p><p><br/>“That’s me,” he smiles nervously. </p><p><br/>“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She’s holding a glass of red wine in her hand, and Louis wishes he had something in his hand to fumble around with as well. </p><p><br/>“Good things mainly, I hope.”</p><p><br/>It feels mildly awkward, especially with a conversation that could’ve been scripted in any low-budget rom-com, but Louis’ determined to get through this initial state of not knowing what to say. He knows he shouldn’t think this far ahead, but if it’s going really well, the woman in front of him could become his mother-in-law at some point in the future, so he doesn’t want to fuck this up. </p><p><br/>Anne smiles, and it looks genuine. “Of course, love. Harry is glad to have you accompany him. And my daughter thought you were quite funny, as well.”</p><p><br/>“That’s nice of her to say.” Thank god for Gemma. “I was glad we got along so well, I usually don’t know too many people in the private areas at concerts.”</p><p><br/>“I can imagine. It’s quite the unique situation, innit?”</p><p><br/>“It sure is,” Louis sighs. “I… I know I barely know you, and you must think I’m super weird for doing this whole … thing”, he says quietly in order to prevent others to overhear it, “and that’s definitely fair. I just want to… I just want to say that I’m not, like, a gold digger or anything.”</p><p><br/>Harry’s mum looks at him attentively, nodding along slightly as Louis continues talking. </p><p><br/>“I was just helping out a friend who got himself into a very difficult situation, but that’s beside the point here. Okay, well, I also agreed because I liked the idea myself, to be honest, but I’m in no way trying to use Harry, or his money, or his fame. I… I genuinely like him.”</p><p><br/>Staying silent for a couple more seconds to make sure Louis’ finished his little monologue, Anne squints as she thinks of what to reply. </p><p><br/>“I already knew all this, Louis, Harry told me. I have to admit, I did find it strange at first, but Harry and Gemma both talk very highly of you, and I’ve seen footage of the two of your together.”</p><p><br/>Louis nods curtly, slightly relieved. “I know Harry told you, I just wanted to tell you myself. If I were you, I wouldn’t know what to think about this either.”</p><p><br/>“I’m not judging you, Louis. I’m no expert when it comes to the music industry, but I trust my children’s judgement. And I was sort of involved in the process of selecting you, so I do know a thing or two about you.”</p><p><br/>“Now that’s comforting,” Louis jokes and Anne joins in laughing. Louis wishes the lights would finally dim down, wishes that the supporting act would finally start, but they’re not and with a glance to the clock on the wall of their VIP box, he checks that he indeed has a couple more minutes to cover. </p><p><br/>In the end, he decides to use the lack of beverage in his hands as an excuse to go get a drink, and engages in some very welcome small talk with the boy selling him the beer. When he returns, the background music has stopped and he is actually glad to find an empty spot next to Anne, as she’s the only familiar face. </p><p><br/>Louis’ sure the other people Harry invited are just as nice as well, but he’s not really in the mood to talk to them more than necessary. Honestly, he just wants to get some free time with his boyfriend, but he won’t get that until very late that night. </p><p><br/>The concert goes off without a hitch, unsurprisingly. Maybe it’s also because it’s a bit like a home concert, seeing as they’re finally in the UK after all the touring abroad. Harry glances up to the VIP boxes even more than usual, which many of the fans catch up on and cheer loudly. </p><p><br/>When the concert ends, they wait a bit until most people have cleared their seats before they go join Harry backstage. He’s a bit sweaty, but his curls fall in an even cuter way like this, and Louis can’t believe his luck when he’s the first person greeted, with a kiss as well. </p><p><br/>“I’m so proud of you,” Anne hugs her son. “What a wonderful show.”</p><p><br/>“The audience was amazing tonight,” Harry agrees, taking the praise off himself. “Plus, my personal cheerleaders in the VIP box played a big role in it.” </p><p><br/>Trying not to blush at the smile Harry is shooting him, Louis moves closer to him, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Harry’s hand sneaks around his waist and remains there as he talks to the friends that had been with Anne and Louis, following the concert from the VIP box. </p><p><br/>This is so much more than Louis had expected from playing along with Stan’s stupid little lie. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>While Harry finishes the European leg of the tour, Louis continues job hunting in the background. It is a big priority for sure, but with every passing day, keeping enough contact with Harry also increases in importance, so he tries to balance everything. </p><p><br/>Harry sends updates from the cities he’s currently performing at - Hamburg, Dublin, Bologna - and Louis is mildly jealous, but also excited to see Harry this happy. They facetime regularly, whenever possible at least, because some nights, it just doesn’t work out. </p><p><br/>Two weeks of no in real life contact pass, weeks that Louis spends dedicating his time to editing his CV to make it more appealing and also up to date, when suddenly an email flies into Louis’ notifications. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>Dear customer, </strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>this is a confirmation that your order has been successfully processed. Thank you for booking your flight with us!</strong>
</p><p><br/>And what? Louis doesn’t sleep walk (or sleep… do things) and he also hasn’t been drunk in the past 24 hours, so there’s no way he’s booked anything (with full conscious at least). </p><p><br/>With a glance to the time, Louis checks that Harry is not sleeping or in concert right now, before hitting the call button.</p><p><br/>“Buondì, ma chérie!”</p><p><br/>“… Aren’t those two different languages?” </p><p><br/>“Yeah, but it rhymes.”</p><p><br/>Chuckling, Louis sits down on the kitchen chair in his parent’s kitchen. He wishes Harry could be here with them, meet his parents now that Louis knows the key figures of Harry’s family. But they’ve already got a date set out for that, so he just has to be patient and take what he can get. </p><p><br/>“You’re an idiot,” Louis says. </p><p><br/>“Are you just calling to insult me?” Harry pouts.</p><p><br/>“Yup.”</p><p><br/>“Ah alright, typical Tuesday then.”</p><p><br/>It’s conversations like these that make Louis so grateful for what they have. Just playing along, no <em>what did you actually want, I’m busy, despite being in fact hella busy. </em></p><p><br/>“Am I interrupting you? Where are you right now?”</p><p><br/>“Mannheim, but no, you’re not interrupting anything,” his boyfriend assures. “What’s up?”</p><p><br/>“Nothing, but I just received an email confirming a flight to…,” he actually has to check and his eyes almost leave his head. “Las Vegas. For this weekend. Do you happen to know anything about that?”</p><p><br/>“Mh, no I don’t.”</p><p><br/>“You don’t?” Louis repeats. </p><p><br/>“Nope.”</p><p><br/>A weird feeling starts to spread in Louis’ stomach. No one warned him about a possible dating stunt, and Harry is also still in Europe, finishing this leg of the tour in just two days. So why the hell would AB-PR book him a flight to freaking Las Vegas, out of all places?</p><p><br/>“Alright, then I’ll e-mail Mrs Sanchez or … someone. I don’t know who’s responsible, but there’s gotta be a mista-”</p><p><br/>“Alright, alright, calm down. Maybe I do know something about it,” Harry cuts in and Louis recognises something in his voice, something that means Harry <em>definitely</em> is in on what’s going on here.</p><p><br/>“Oh, now you do?“</p><p><br/>“Counterquestion: Do you know what’s happening in Vegas this weekend?” There are noises in the background of Harry’s side of the call and it sounds like a car door being shut before it’s quiet again and Harry breathes out. </p><p><br/>“Eh, no?”</p><p><br/>“Want me to tell you?”</p><p><br/>Huffing, Louis turns around on the chair and stares out of the kitchen window, watching his lovely old neighbour going for a walk with their cute but super annoying terrier. “No, I’d like to stay dumb. Of course I want you to tell me.”</p><p><br/>“The BMAs - Billboard music awards,” Harry explains like Louis doesn’t know what the abbreviation stands for. “That’s what’s going to happen in Vegas this weekend.”</p><p>“…and you’re going to be there?”</p><p><br/>“Well, duh, yeah,” Harry laughs. </p><p><br/>”… and I’m going … to be there?” Louis phrases cautiously, in case he read the signs incredibly wrong. The last thing he wants is to come across as greedy. </p><p><br/>“If you want to, yeah,” the line is silent for a second before he continues talking. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you-”</p><p><br/>“Shut up,” Louis cuts in. Instead of staring outside on the now empty street, his eyes follow his fingers that are currently running over a dent in the wooden table that Louis had caused a couple years ago when Stan and he had been drunkenly playing fruit ninja and his friend had accidentally cut the table instead of the orange Louis had been throwing roughly in his direction. That had been an unforgettable night, and not only in a good way when Louis’ mum had come downstairs in the middle of the night to find her wasted son chopping the furniture. Still, good memories. </p><p><br/>“Huh?“</p><p><br/>“Are you actually apologising for wanting to take me to the States? To Vegas? To the fucking BMAs?”</p><p><br/>“Uh…,” Harry makes. “I don’t know, maybe? I wanted it to be a surprise, but I understand if you would’ve wanted to know earlier. You can still cancel, too, it’s no problem at all, I know it’s pretty spontaneous…”</p><p><br/>“No chance in hell am I cancelling!“ Louis exclaims. He needs a couple more seconds to fully progress the absurdity of the whole situation. He’s been through a lot of stuff, unbelievable opportunities of all kinds, these past couple months, but BMAs? That’s a different league. </p><p><br/>“Yeah?”</p><p><br/>“Yeah, no, count me in. Originally I wanted to watch my cousin’s football match but if we’re being honest, they suck anyway, doesn’t matter if I’m there to support them or nah.”</p><p><br/>“Are you sure? There’ll be other opportunities to go to Las Vegas, I totally understand if you’d rather go to that footie game…”</p><p><br/>“Hey, no. I want to go to Vegas, yeah, but not only for the BMAs. I also want to go to see you again, to get to spend some time with you. And I can watch a dozen more footie games but there won’t be many chances to accompany you to the BMAs,” Louis reasons. With a mischievous undertone he adds “Who knows whether you’ll ever make it to the Billboard Music Awards again.”</p><p><br/>“Heeey,” Harry protests, but there’s a smile in his voice. God, Louis loves this man. “Well then, boyfriend, I’ll be happy to meet you at LAS Airport in three days.”</p><p><br/>Despite Harry not even being able to see it, Louis can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “Likewise.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>The night of the BMAs, Harry wins <em>Top Male Artist</em> and Louis has never been more proud of anyone in his entire life. It’s an incredible achievement for Harry, for sure, but it’s one of the first award wins that Louis is experiencing this close to the main stage. Harry can’t stop thanking everyone who has been supporting him and Louis can’t stop smiling with that loved-up look in his eyes. The pictures going viral on the internet mirror exactly that and elicit mostly positive comments. The others, Louis doesn’t care about that night. </p><p><br/>It’s mid May and accordingly hot is the weather in Las Vegas, even at night when they finally leave MGM Grand Garden Arena after many, many hours of celebrating and - in Louis’ case- ogling countless celebrities he’d never dream of seeing up this close. They even meet Liam shortly before they get another round of drinks and Louis would’ve loved to catch up with him, but before he can return to their conversation, Liam has wandered off again. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m so, so proud of you,” Louis says as he kisses Harry seconds after they enter their joint hotel suite. Usually it’s not his doing to end up in a position like this, with Louis cornering Harry against the door, but he certainly doesn’t mind. Tonight Harry deserves all the rewarding. </p><p><br/>“I’m proud of you too,” Harry replies and it’s such a Harry thing to say, even after just winning one of the biggest awards in the music industry. </p><p><br/>“Tonight’s not about me though.” Louis presses his whole body against Harry’s and it feels fantastic, especially with all the remaining adrenaline pumping through their veins. Harry’s breathing gets louder as Louis kisses down his throat, occasionally suckling on the heated skin. </p><p><br/>“I love that you’re here with me.”</p><p><br/>“I love being here with you,” Louis answers quietly. “I wish I could be with you more often.”</p><p><br/>Harry doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds, maybe because Louis’ wandering hands are distracting him or maybe because he’s considering his boyfriend’s words or maybe both. </p><p><br/>“I know, I wish that too. But we’ll find a way to work around my schedule - we’re already doing a great job, in my opinion. And after south america, you can come with me to Japan. I think you’d love it there.”</p><p><br/>“I think I could love any place as long as you’re with me,” Louis whispers like it’s a secret. And maybe it is, because this is by far the sappiest and most disgusting thing he’s said since that over the top love letter he attempted to write in primary school. </p><p><br/>“Then I think that freshly made king size bed over there is a good place to start,” Harry grins, only pouting slightly when Louis hits him weakly. It’s a good rest of a night and Louis follows his intentions of congratulating in at least two ways. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>After returning to the UK, it feels like a countdown. It’s exactly three weeks until their contract officially ends and rationally Louis knows that yes, a few formalities will change but his relationship with Harry doesn’t necessarily need to. Still, it feels like the last ten seconds before the clock strikes twelve at New Year’s and it’s bugging Louis more than he thought it would. </p><p><br/>Harry is off to South America right now, having played Buenos Aires yesterday night and facing a long travel to Santiago next. He’s having a brilliant time, from what Louis’ seen on social media and grasped from the short texts Harry shoots him whenever there’s a free minute. The time difference between Argentina and home is brutal, though, and the Asian leg of the tour is only going to be worse. </p><p><br/>While his boyfriend is gone, singing his lungs out many thousands miles away from here, Louis actually has three job interviews in the Yorkshire area coming up. He receives the invitations in a range of just a couple days - first for the Local Government Association in Manchester, later for a job in human resources in Doncaster and in project management for a small charity in Sheffield. </p><p><br/>During his job hunting sessions he had increasingly realised that most job offers in the sociology sector are for teaching positions, so he’s even happier to get back not one, not two but three invitations after all. </p><p><br/>And they go well, too. Whatever question is asked, Louis answers them with the right mix of competence and charme and - to his luck - no one he talks to seems to know about his current … employment. For a second he had suspected it because the lady welcoming him in the office in Doncaster stresses his name a little too much for his liking, but even if she does know, she doesn’t comment on it and Louis’ grateful for that. </p><p> </p><p>“Have you heard back from anywhere?” Louis’ dad asks when he comes home from an afternoon jog. </p><p><br/>“Nope,” Louis replies and walks straight into the kitchen, in definite need of at least half a litre of water. The regular fancy food escapades with Harry combined with the little time he has for footie pracites get noticable in his stamina. Well, this kind of stamina at least. </p><p><br/>“Though I’m not sure I even want to hear back from the Doncaster office. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure I’d love to work for the Local Government in Manchester,” he adds and takes another sip. “But we’ll see.”</p><p>His dad follows him and leans against the counter to face his son, making it a proper serious interaction.</p><p><br/>“You know I support you in whatever you choose to do, Louis, and I definitely want you to be happy. But maybe you should give human resources a shot. You might like it more than you think.”</p><p><br/>Louis lowers his glass and sits down on his inofficially assigned chair. This spot has become his go-to place whenever he needs to think recently. He looks up to his dad with a neutral expression. </p><p><br/>“That’s easy for you to say. You love your job. I just… I just want to do something that I love, as well. Which I don’t think would be working in human resources for the rest of my life.” When his dad opens his mouth, probably to disagree, Louis holds up a finger and adds “but don’t worry, if Doncaster is the only offer I’ll get, I won’t decline.”</p><p><br/>Sighing, the older man turns sideways and opens the fridge to grab a beer. “Want one?”</p><p><br/>“No thanks,” Louis says and motions to his half-full glass. </p><p><br/>After popping the bottle open and taking three long sips, his dad sighs again, a pensive expression painted on his face. “Maybe I’m just worried you could throw good opportunities away because you’re so focused on that Harry guy.”</p><p><br/>There it is. Louis always expected to have this conversation at some point, but deep inside, he’s still a tiny bit hurt that it’s come to this now, especially with his family always reassuring him they’re glad he’s been so happy lately. </p><p><br/>“I’m literally not, though. Of course I’d be more flexible in both Manchester and Sheffield than in Doncaster, but that’s not why I want to work in those positions. No matter what job I’m ending up at, there’s no chance I’ll be able to live a life like this in the future. And I’m <em>aware</em> of that.”</p><p><br/>“Good,” is the only thing he gets as a response, then his dad is tending to the bottle in his hand again. </p><p><br/>“And just for the record, I do find it upsetting that you’re calling him <em>that Harry guy</em> when he’s been my boyfriend of several months now. ‘m just saying.“</p><p><br/>“I’m sorry,” his father replies, though he doesn’t sound very apologetic. That wouldn’t be his style anyway. “I just want the best for you.”</p><p><br/>“I know. But I’m positive everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. And if some things aren’t meant to happen, then I won’t be crying after them.” With that, Louis takes the final sip of water and gets up, placing the glass in the dish washer and shedding from the thin jacket he’d worn for his jog. </p><p><br/>“Yeah, maybe some things aren’t meant to be,” his dad mumbles when he’s just about to leave the room and go upstairs for a shower. For a second, Louis halts but doesn’t turn around. His dad would deny it, but Louis’ pretty sure he didn’t mean the job offers with that and it leaves a sour taste in his mouth for the rest of his evening. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>The day Harry is finally on his flight back from Mexico, Louis gets one job offer - the only one. And it’s not for Manchester. </p><p><br/>It’s for the charity project in Sheffield and while Louis’ not ecstatic about it, he doesn’t feel too disappointed either. </p><p><br/>He tells Stan and Oli first, then his parents and his grandma. Harry is still on the plane and will be for another four hours and when he finally arrives at Heathrow, he’ll be done for the day and probably go straight to bed. So Louis’ll just tell him tomorrow in person, when he’s finally coming up to Donny to meet his parents. Which Louis is mildly worried but mostly excited about. He hasn’t seen Harry in almost two weeks, after all. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next day, Harry arrives almost one and a half hours late at the Tomlinson residence because it’s Saturday and the traffic on the A1 is mad. Louis’ not annoyed at him though, especially not because Harry is the one suffering through the dozens of idiots on the street, not him.</p><p><br/>When he finally arrives around noon, he looks tired and worn out, the only energetic thing about him being his bouncy locks and his ever-smiling lips. </p><p><br/>“Hi love,” Harry greets him with a kiss after he parks his Mercedes. It’s by far the most expensive car in the entire street and Louis swallows because some of their nosy neighbours are probably watching them through their see-through curtains right now. He shouldn’t care. </p><p><br/>“Hi,” Louis smiles back nonetheless and hugs Harry’s waist. “You look tired.”</p><p><br/>“I am.”</p><p><br/>“Well, I hope you’re not going to fall asleep over lunch then, because mum is <em>pumped</em> to finally meet you. And make you eat your body weight in casserole.”</p><p><br/>And there is that contagious laugh Louis’ missing whenever his boyfriend is not with him. </p><p><br/>“I’m sure I can stay awake for that.” He leans down again to kiss Louis’ cheek, which is a thing that Louis loves. It makes him feel all gooey and safe inside and he sighs happily as he tightens his arms around his boyfriend, neighbours forgotten. </p><p><br/>“Are you nervous?”</p><p><br/>“A bit, yeah. Do I have reason to be nervous?“</p><p><br/>Shaking his head, Louis takes a whiff of Harry’s cologne. It’s a smell he doesn’t recognise, maybe a new purchase from South America. Either way, it smells incredible. </p><p><br/>“Shall we then?” Harry initiates with a smile tugging at his lips. </p><p><br/>“We shall.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Meeting the parents goes well of course. Harry’s a natural charmer and knows exactly what to say to wrap Louis’ mum around his little finger - and the other nine fingers as well. He compliments the home decor, the plants in the hallway and even the pattern of the bowl the casserole is served in. That usually does the job with Louis’ mum. </p><p><br/>Louis’ dad is a bit different, but Harry even handles that way better than Louis had hoped it’d turn out. Fiveteen minutes into lunch and they’re in deep conversation about the best Pink Floyd album and the new Fuji camera his dad had treated himself to just a couple weeks ago. </p><p><br/>It’s when Harry declines a second serving of apple crumble for the third time that everything goes downhill. </p><p><br/>“Have you started looking for flats yet, Louis? I can still call Hub and ask if he has any recommendations?” his dad asks, trying to open a new topic after Harry had shared some memories of what travelling the world is like. </p><p><br/>And fuck - Louis still hasn’t told Harry about the job. He almost chokes on the sizely bite of apple crumble in his mouth when he realises. </p><p><br/>“No I haven’t,” he coughs. “And you don’t need to call Hubert.”</p><p><br/>“Flat?” Harry asks, understandably confused. He turns his head to face his boyfriend, who’s sitting next to him. “Are you moving?”</p><p><br/>Taking his time swallowing his food, Louis stares down and places the fork on his place before grabbing his glass of water and chucking down half of it. </p><p><br/>“Yeah, I, uh…I got a job in Sheffield.”</p><p><br/>Both his mother and father observe the situation attentively and it’s slightly awkward as they certainly hadn’t expected for Harry to not be informed about the recent changes in Louis’ life. They settle for just sitting there and not really reacting, letting the couple solve this first. </p><p><br/>“Oh. That’s… cool?” It sounds like a question more like an exclamation of joy, but at least he’s trying. Harry’s whole body language is screaming <em>Why did you not tell me?</em> though, and he’s looking down to where he’s fiddling with the fork instead of facing any of the Tomlinson family. Like he’s … <em>embarrassed</em> to not know. That hurts Louis even more than an angry reaction, to be honest. </p><p><br/>“Yeah… just accepted yesterday, though,” Louis tries to build himself some ground, but it’s useless seeing as the mood in the room has gone from chatty to awkward in just half a minute. </p><p><br/>Thank god, Louis’ mother takes the chance and starts collecting the used dishes to take them to the kitchen and naturally, Harry offers to help. </p><p><br/>“No, dear, absolutely not. You’re our guest today. The two of you can go upstairs and rest, you must still be tired from all the travelling.”</p><p><br/>Louis appreciates the opportunity to talk to Harry in private, but the way his mum phrased it, he feels reminded of his teenage years when he first used to bring home a girl and then boys. Going upstairs to get some privacy in your childhood bedroom, that’s not something you usually do when your boyfriend first meets your parents. Especially not if you’re well into your mid-twenties. </p><p><br/>Harry follows him upstairs but excuses himself to the loo before they make it to the room Louis currently calls his own. </p><p><br/>“So this is it, then? The infamous childhood bedroom of Louis Tomlinson?” Harry tries to joke where he appears in the door, drying his hands on his jeans. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time though, and it physically hurts Louis. </p><p><br/>“It is,” Louis replies and pats the space next to him on the bed, motioning for Harry to sit down. He does, though with a couple inches of distance between their knees and it’s silent. </p><p><br/>“Why didn’t you tell me about the job? You said in Sheffield, didn’t you? I thought you had a job interview in Manchester?”</p><p><br/>Louis nods. “I did, yes. I… didn’t get that job though. There was another job interview here in Donny but I’m actually glad I didn’t get an offer from them because it was in human resources and I just don’t see myself there, you know?”</p><p><br/>Repositioning himself so he’s closer than before but still not touching, Harry nods stiffly and musters him attentively. “So how are we feeling about this job? What’s it exactly anyway?“</p><p><br/>Louis tells him all he knows, where the charity is located, what projects the man interviewing him mentioned, when he’s going to start. </p><p><br/>“Monday in three weeks already? That’s soon.”</p><p><br/>The only thing Louis can do is shrug, because yes, it is soon. He doesn’t know how to feel about that when he thinks about it sometimes. </p><p><br/>“It is,” Louis agrees after all. “Especially because I need to find a flat in Sheffield before July now. So we’ll see how that goes.”</p><p><br/>Instead of encouraging him that everything will be find, Harry just stares at him. His eyes still look tired, and his face seems pale despite how tanned he got in South America. </p><p><br/>“You could’ve told me about all that. I would’ve been happy for you.”</p><p><br/>“I know! It’s not like I think you wouldn’t be happy for me or don’t care about me or whatever bullshit it is your pretty little head has come up with,” Louis says and ruffles through his boyfriend’s hair, eliciting a small smile from him. “It’s just that you’re so busy and time zones were a bitch and I just… forgot.”</p><p><br/>“You forgot?”</p><p><br/>Nice, Louis, nice safe. He draws a face at his wording. “It wasn’t on purpose, babe, I swear. I was just busy and you were busy and it drowned inbetween everything. I’m sorry.” He strokes across Harry’s cheek carefully, barely touching his skin before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. This is what they should be doing after two weeks of not seeing each other, and not discussing. </p><p><br/>“It’s okay,” Harry whispers and his gaze wanders to the window. One can’t see the backyard from their position on the bed, but the blue summer sky is pretty as well. Harry continues without redirecting his eyes to his boyfriend. “It just feels like I’m missing out on so much in your life when I’m not here and it’s… shitty.”</p><p><br/>“It’s okay,” Louis repeats Harry’s words. </p><p><br/>That makes Harry turn towards him again, a serious look on his face, eyebrows drawn together. “It’s not though. I don’t want to be a shitty boyfriend who doesn’t even know what’s going on in your life. And it’s only going to get worse when you’re starting your new job and I’m touring Asia.”</p><p><br/>Rationally, Louis knows Harry’s argument is logical and he can understand his point of view, his feelings about not being in on Louis’ new job. He doesn’t like the route this is taking though. </p><p><br/>“Are you… worried that we’re not going to… handle that well?” He’s careful to not phrase it like he wants to ask whether Harry wants to break up or anything. He definitely doesn’t need to plant stupid ideas and doubts in his mind now. </p><p><br/>“I… no, that’s not it. It’s just…,” Harry interrupts himself and sighs. “I mean, of course I’m worried. But that doesn’t mean I want a <em>break</em> or anything.” So Harry did catch that train of thought. Of course he did, he’s not stupid. </p><p><br/>“Today just made me realise that we need to communciate more. We need to communicate more even when it’s hard, when I’m in a different time zone, in a different country, on a different schedule. I don’t want us to go downhill because we <em>forgot</em> to update each other about what’s going on in our life.”</p><p><br/>After contemplating Harry’s words for a moment, Louis nods along. “You’re right. I want to work on that. You’re a priority in my life and I should’ve made sure you were informed about what’s going on.”</p><p><br/>Personally, Louis thinks this conversation itself is already a massive step in the right direction, a huge plus in their communication basis. Of course he always knew communication is important in any relationship, whether it be platonic or familiar or romantic, but it never fully occured to him how much <em>more</em> important it is in their specific case. Half-time long-distance combined with a famous/non-famous relationship is one hell of a challenge, so working on it is a must. </p><p><br/>“Don’t come complaining to me when I’ve tripled texted you for the twentieth time in a row, though,” he tries to close the very grown-up discussion with a joke, and it has the desired effect because Harry is that easy to impress. </p><p><br/>“I definitely won’t. Might have to mute you, though.”</p><p><br/>“Don’t you dare,” Louis threatens ironically and climbs over to Harry to straddle his stretched out thighs. They’re both aware they’re not going to take this anywhere, not with Louis’ parents downstairs, but a bit of snogging can’t hurt after the rollercoaster of a day they’ve had so far. And it feels so, so good to finally have Harry’s hands back on his hips and Harry’s lips pressed against his own. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, their communication-is-important-conversation doesn’t stay the only unpleasant incident that day. As if they don’t deserve a day in fucking peace. </p><p><br/>After their reconciliation snogging session and a small nap that Harry didn’t want but desperately needed, they’re headed downstairs to join Louis’ parents in the garden. The weather is just perfect, not too cold and not too hot with a small breeze to keep it comfortable. Louis grabs them both a coke before planting himself on the garden chair next to Harry. </p><p><br/>Louis’ mum suggests they harvest some cherries from the one cherry tree in their garden that hasn’t died yet. Harry is as keen as mustard before she even finishes that sentence, asking for a bucket and a ladder.</p><p><br/>When they’ve made sure that neither of the boys is going to die falling down the wobbly ladder placed beneath their cherry tree, Louis’ parents excuse themselves to go on their Saturday afternoon walk. Usually Louis used to mock his parents for going for a walk like an old couple, but he doesn’t actually mind because he’s mainly focused on Harry anyway.</p><p><br/>There’s already a good kilo of cherries in their bucket when Harry gets a call on his phone and stumbles down the ladder so gracelessly that Louis worries he’s going to break at least five bones in his foot. </p><p><br/>Cherries aren’t his favourite fruits, that’s probably either kiwi or watermelon because he’s hipstery like that, but he still snacks some straight from the bucket while his boyfriend is gone. It must be important if he walks around while talking like that, he never does if it’s just Mitch or Sarah calling. </p><p><br/>When Harry returns five minutes later, his mood has dropped by at least fifty percent. </p><p><br/>“What’s up?” Louis questions where he’s sitting on the lowest ladder step and still chewing on some fruit. </p><p><br/>“That was Mr Richards. He wants some pictures because we’ve been quite <em>inactive</em> lately.”</p><p><br/>Louis raises an eyebrow at that. “Mr Richards called you personally? For <em>pictures?</em> I thought he always sends his little minions for that.”</p><p>“Apparently it was a concern of his. I don’t know. It probably bugs him that we’re barely in the rags anymore.”</p><p><br/>Frowning, Louis reaches for another cherry and parts it with his fingernails to remove the pit. “You were on tour.”</p><p><br/>“I know. Doesn’t matter to him though.”</p><p><br/>“Well if that’s the case,” Louis says and pushes himself up with a groan. “Let’s take some pictures and soothe the beast.”</p><p><br/>Harry grimaces and fumbles with the phone that’s still in his hands. “That’s the thing actually. He wants a picture with your parents in it.”</p><p><br/>And oh. He should’ve known that would happen at some point but so far they’ve been lucky enough to keep Louis’ environment out of the spotlight. The only two people connected to Louis are Oli and Stan and their last appearance in any news was months ago.</p><p><br/>“Nope, no chance,” Louis shakes his head vigourously. “Sorry but that’s not going to happen. I don’t want my mum’s face plastered all over the Sun front cover tomorrow. They have nothing to do with all this.”</p><p><br/>“I know and I totally agree,” Harry tries to calm him down by hugging him. “AB-PR can’t legally demand this and we’re not going to give Richards what he wants, easy as that.”</p><p><br/>“Damn right,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s shoulder. He closes his eyes because <em>how dare Mr Richards?</em> His parents aren’t part of their contract and he definitely won’t sell them out to the disgusting business that is the press. They deserve to go grocery shopping in peace without getting papped. Louis already feels bad enough that the media knows about his friendship with Oli and Stan. </p><p><br/>“Richards can fuck off,” he adds, making Harry chuckle. They stay wrapped up in each other like this for a couple minutes and when they part Louis regretfully notices that his cherry-red fingers left juice stains on Harry’s expensive creme coloured shirt. He apologises profusedly but Harry just laughs and claims he’ll try to wash it out and if that doesn’t work, it’ll be a nice memory to this day. Louis kisses him for that. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next time they’re seeing each other it’s only for a short two hours because Louis has a flat viewing in Sheffield around noon, then he’s taking the train down to London to meet Harry and in the evening he’s already off to Doncaster again because he promised Oli to at least turn up to his yearly barbecue for the last hour or two. </p><p><br/>Needless to say, it’s a stressful day for Louis, and it’s not much better for Harry who’s hurrying from a writing session with his mate Tyler to a meeting with his label. </p><p><br/>They settle for meeting at Harry’s home because it has a nice private garden where no pap will surprise them. Mr Richards obviously wasn’t pleased with their refusal to include Louis’ parents in the last pictures, so they’re strongly advised to up their social media game and share their domestic bliss with Harry’s fan base. Which is a bother, but doable. Louis had intended to end his Instagram dry spell anyway though, so it’s actually funny to take a few selfies with Harry and bicker about which one should be uploaded. </p><p><br/>When he checks his Twitter a couple minutes later though, he sees something surpising enough to make him sit up, accidentally jostling Harry’s head that had been resting in his lap. </p><p><br/>“Mh,” Harry makes and adjusts the sunglasses that had slipped from their position on his nose. </p><p><br/>“Uh, Harry?”</p><p><br/>“Mh?” he repeats with a sleepy sound. </p><p><br/>“Did you know there’s a rumour going around about you and some brazilian model?” It’s not like he wants to accuse his boyfriend of cheating because he never would, he trusts Harry, but this is still the first time he’s ever heard about this hashtag trending. </p><p><br/>“Adriana?” Harry takes off his sunglasses as if he realises this is going to be a proper conversation that requires him to actually be awake instead of dozing lazily with the sun rays dancing across his face. </p><p><br/>“You know her?”</p><p><br/>“Sure, she’s a lose friend of mine, I’d say. She does Victoria’s secret.” </p><p><br/>Louis has gathered so much from the many, many pictures of the girl only dressed in underwear coming up on google when he types in her full name like the jealous stalker he tries not to be. She’s undeniably pretty - of course she is, she’s an internationally well-known model apparently. Not like he’d know. </p><p><br/>“And you just coincidentally met her in Rio?” He tries to keep the negative undertone out of his voice but fails miserably, judging from Harry’s puzzled expression. </p><p><br/>“No, São Paulo. And it was actually an arranged meeting. She’s fun though, I’ll introduce you the next time she’s in London.”</p><p><br/>Louis keeps scrolling through the online articles and musters the pictures taken just a couple days ago in Brazil before answering. </p><p><br/>“I’m not jealous or anything, I swear, but this looks awfully close.” He hesitates for a second before looking down to Harry. “Why was it set up? Is she so busy that you even need to book an appointment to meet her if you’re her friend?”</p><p><br/>Harry bites his lip and scrambles to sit up. “AB-PR arranged it,” he admits in a neutral voice. “Adriana and I both agreed that we’d keep it low considering I’m in a real relationship, but we couldn’t get out of it.”</p><p><br/>Now that’s news. Why the fuck does AB-PR arrange a … <em>date</em> for <em>his boyfriend</em> when they’re fully aware that their relationship goes far beyond the contract? What kind of sick power game are they playing?</p><p><br/>“What the hell? Why do they do that? Are they trying to break us up or something?”</p><p><br/>Harry sighs and sits with his legs crossed, his floral shorts stretching obscenely and if Louis weren’t so busy raging about Richards and his assholes of PR-agents, he’d definitely be tending to that. </p><p><br/>“It’s not like that. That meeting had actually been in my calender for a long time. They didn’t give an official statement, but I think it was part of the original media break-up plan for us. So it makes sense they arranged a meeting at a date shortly before our contract is bound to end.”</p><p><br/>“The official break-up plan was a <em>mutual decision</em>, though,” Louis interjects. “Cheating rumours surely don’t sound like a mutual decision.”</p><p><br/>It’s not only the fact that Louis hates the idea of millions of people believing he’d be cheated at, thrown away like another trophy on Harry’s list of bitter exes. That bugs him, sure, but it makes him so angry that the whole world would’ve gotten the impression that his boyfriend was a <em>cheater,</em> which he isn’t. </p><p><br/>“It wouldn’t be cheating, per se. They’d make sure of that - it’s bad press. It would’ve been a very … seamless transition though, I guess.”</p><p><br/>Harry states it like it’s the most normal thing to say and Louis despises it. Talking about being sold out like this shouldn’t sound so trivial in anybody’s mouth. He wishes Harry didn’t have to go through this over and over again. </p><p><br/>“That’s sick.”</p><p><br/>“That’s the business.”</p><p><br/>“I hate the business. Tell them to cut that shit. I don’t want any cheating rumours concerning either of us. That’s bullshit and <em>they’re</em> the actual problem here.”</p><p><br/>Harry’s sigh is not a good sign and Louis knows they’re both powerless when it comes to certain obligations because that’s part of the job and even more part of the contract they both signed. </p><p><br/>“It’s not that easy. I told them I won’t be doing any more pseudo-dates, but it’s always two-sided. Adriana’s management insisted on this meeting too. So if it’s already booked, it’s gotta be done.”</p><p><br/>With a glance to the time, Louis realises he almost has to get ready to leave for Doncaster again. Great, now he spent the little precious time he has with his boyfriend ranting about the fuckers running the industry. That wasn’t the plan for this afternoon at all. </p><p><br/>“I wish we were free. <em>You</em> were free,” Louis mumbles, mood still sour. Neither of them deserve to worry about all the shit happening in the background all the time. They deserve some goddamn <em>peace.</em> </p><p><br/>“Me too, baby. Me too.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Their high doesn’t last forever though. It’s been a long week of not seeing each other because of timetables that are impossible to coordinate. Louis is busy running from one flat interview to the next while also trying to help his friend Cal move from one part of Manchester to the other and visiting his grandma who had fallen and broken her wrist a couple days ago. </p><p><br/>Harry on the other hand is off visiting his family in the few actual free days and then is back to following obligations down in London. He has two interviews, then a radio gig and also a meeting with management and AB-PR concerning his public image after the contract ends. To that meeting, Louis isn’t even invited despite obviously not leaving Harry’s life after the end of contract.</p><p><br/>It’s stressful for both of them. Whenever they finally find the time to facetime or call or even just text, they’re both exhausted and tired and slightly moody, especially Louis. He’s running out of time to find a flat before his job starts and so far, none of the flat interviews were promising. </p><p><br/>Hopefully, today would be different. He’s got a flat interview near The Diamond, suspiciously central and he’s definitely seriously interested from the pictures he’s seen online. It’s a small flat, yes, but he doesn’t need much space. </p><p><br/>Harry is supposed to meet him at the train station around 2 in the afternoon, and they’d get a late lunch together before taking the train up to Doncaster, where Harry is supposed to stay over night. </p><p><br/>Except Harry isn’t at the train station at 2 pm, nor at 2.30. At first, Louis doesn’t think anything of it, being a good five minutes late himself despite sprinting to their agreed meeting location. After a while though, he’s starting to get worried, especially when Harry answers none of his texts messages. </p><p><br/>“Hi Lou,” Harry finally picks up the phone when Louis calls him the third time in a row. </p><p><br/>“Hi. Where are you?”</p><p>“Uh, at Julian’s?” he replies, confusion lacing his words like he has no idea what’s going on and why his boyfriend is asking. </p><p><br/>“You’re at Julians’s. Right now.” Louis repeats, not believing his ears. This is the last answer he expected for sure. </p><p><br/>“…Yes? What’s the matter?”</p><p><br/>“You were supposed to meet me at Sheffield train station half an hour ago. Ring any bells?”</p><p><br/>For a good few seconds, Harry doesn’t respond and the line is silent because Louis is secretly waiting for Harry to just say “It’s a joke!” and come jumping down the stairs of platform 3 where Louis is still currently standing. None of that is happening though. </p><p><br/>“Fuck. That was today?” It’s almost like Louis sees a mental image of Harry running his hand over his face, like he sometimes does when he’s slightly overwhelmed with a situation. </p><p><br/>“Yeah. That was today.”</p><p><br/>“Lou, I’m so sorry. I was <em>a</em> <em>hundred</em> percent sure that’s on Thursday, I swear.”</p><p><br/>Louis swallows in disappointment. It’s not the end of the world, but emotionally, he’d been prepared to finally see Harry again today. He feels like he needs it, too. </p><p><br/>“Yeah, well, it’s not.”</p><p><br/>Harry sighs on the other side of the phone, probably catching Louis’ mood. “Look, I’m really, really sorry. I simply forgot, okay? Shit happens.”</p><p><br/>“Yeah. Shit happens,” Louis mumbles sourly. He knows he shouldn’t throw a fit now, they don’t need anymore drama in their lives, but can you blame him? He had the whole day and next morning planned out. </p><p><br/>“I can’t drive up now, but I can come up tomorrow? Around 1pm, yeah? And then we’ll just grab a bite in Donny. At that burger place you like so much?”</p><p>To be fair, Harry tries to win some ground, but it’s useless either way. </p><p><br/>“No, <em>Harry,</em> you can’t,” Louis bites. “Because it’s my cousin’s birthday and we’re leaving for York before noon. But I’m guessing you forgot that too.”</p><p><br/>“Says the guy who forgot to tell me he’s got a bloody new job,” Harry replies, trying to keep calm but obviously mirroring Louis’ tone of conversation.</p><p><br/>“At least I didn’t leave you waiting at a train station like a fucking idiot.”</p><p><br/>Harry sighs again and a voice in the background asks whether everything is okay but goes ignored. “I can’t change it right now, okay? I have to get back now, I’ll call you tonight.”</p><p><br/>“In case you don’t forget, I’m guessing?”</p><p><br/>Surprisingly for both of them, Harry hangs up without another word, effectively ending their dispute for now. </p><p> </p><p>That night, Harry tries to call him exactly once, like a duty he promised to fulfil. Louis misses it as he’s busy watching telly with his parents and when he sees the missed call on his phone half an hour later, he doesn’t try to call back. He’s being extra petty, he’s aware, but if Harry hasn’t even bothered to call a second or third time, it’s obviously no priority to him. He’s probably still busy writing his next hits with Julian or Tyler or whoever else he meets up with. </p><p> </p><p>Louis is almost able to forget about Harry’s and his fight for the day, having fun with his cousins and seeing some distant family again, until his aunt decides to question him about an article she read online. Or, she tries to ask in a friendly way, like she’s just checking in he and Harry are doing well, but they all know she’s referencing to the rags. She’s the type to read the Mirror. </p><p><br/>So with as much grace and the most convincing smile he can manage, Louis assures her that he and Harry are indeed still together and nowhere near breaking up or cheating on each other, though he is inevitably reminded of the day before and all those days of Harry touring ahead. Let’s just say his mood that day isn’t even lifted by his uncle’s chocolate cake. </p><p> </p><p><br/>On Thursday Louis has another flat interview, the last for now, and it goes horribly. He shows up almost fifteen minutes late because he can’t find the address after his phone died and therefore he maps was no option anymore. Then he called the lady awaiting him by her former surname, effectively upsetting her as she’s currently getting a divorce from her “cheating arsehole of an ex-husband” and that’s the reason they’re giving up the flat. When she questions what his present job is and he has to explain that he is indeed unemployed until next month, he feels like he doesn’t even need to try and pretend to be the picture-perfect tenant anymore. It’s not going to work anyway. </p><p><br/>Understandably, he’s bummed for the rest of the day. This was his last chance to make a good impression and secure himself a good lease, a home-base to start a new chapter of his life in a new city. </p><p><br/>So when even fastfood and Doctor Who reruns and cookie ice cream can’t distract him, he reluctantly calls Harry. They’ve been back on relatively normal speaking terms since this morning, but Louis was busy travelling down to Sheffield and they didn’t talk much during the day. </p><p><br/>The phone beeps more times than Louis had expected. It’s a Thursday night and the day Harry had originally thought he’d be up in Doncaster until Louis had told him he was booked out all day. </p><p><br/>When Harry finally picks up, there’s rumaging audible in the background and foot steps can be heard while Harry starts talking. </p><p><br/>“Lou?”</p><p><br/>“Yeah, hi.”</p><p><br/>“Hi. What’s up?”</p><p><br/>“Not much,” he replies with a look down to the empty ice cream container next to him and the telly flickering on mute in the background. “Where are you?”</p><p><br/>“At home. Is that a wrong answer? Am I supposed to be somewhere else again?” He does sound the tiniest bit worried but mostly sure that he’s good and just checking up. Still, it stings a bit that Harry thinks of meeting up with Louis as something he’s <em>supposed</em> to do. </p><p><br/>“No, you’re good,” Louis chuckles humourlessly. “Just didn’t want to disturb in case you’re busy.”</p><p><br/>“Nick and Mitch are over, but that’s it. You’re not disturbing.”</p><p><br/>Louis wants to be angry about how Harry has time for Nick and Mitch, especially Mitch who he sees everyday when they’re on tour anyway, but he chooses not to comment on it. It’s to no avail. If he’s lucky he’ll see Harry once for two days next week before he’s off to Asia, and the more time passes, the more he feels like he should be grateful he gets even that little time. He’s dating Harry Styles out of all people, after all. </p><p><br/>“Okay.”</p><p>“So what’s the matter?”</p><p><br/>“I … I had my last flat interview today.”</p><p><br/>“Oh yeah, I remember. How did it go?” Harry asks and it sounds genuinely interested, but the background noise is getting louder and someone starts cheering and bawling.</p><p><br/>“Eh, not good… Very bad actually. I definitely won’t be moving in there.”</p><p><br/>Harry sighs sympathically. “I’m sorry, Lou. But I’m sure it wasn’t as horrible as you thought. And if it’s not this flat, then another one will fit even better.”</p><p><br/>It’s all empty phrases to make Louis feel better, and to a certain extinct, they do work, but still. He’d rather have his boyfriend in his arms and cuddle up to him than have him tell him how everything’s going to work out over the phone. </p><p><br/>“Yeah, I guess.”</p><p><br/>“I’d choose you as a tenant without a second thought. You’re quite the pleasant flat mate whenever you’re here,” Harry jokes and Louis can’t help but smile at that. He definitely plans to live on his own for a couple months, maybe years but he can only agree - Harry is easy to live with as well. </p><p><br/>“Yoo Harold is that loverboy on the phone?” It’s not Mitch’s voice from what Louis can tell, so it must be Nick. Harry shushes the man and distances himself even further from the living room, judging from the noises that are losing in volume. </p><p><br/>“You can get back to the boys. I don’t want to keep you from them.” Except, he does actually. But he’s not going to admit that out loud. </p><p><br/>“No, it’s okay.”</p><p><br/>They talk some more, but it’s mostly meaningless small talk, about what they’ve done today and what they’re going to do tomorrow, before they get interrupted once more. It’s Nick again and apparently Mitch has made a pyramid out of beer bottles or something and even from Harry’s location you can hear glass shatter a couple seconds later, followed by both men cursing. </p><p><br/>“Lou, I-”</p><p><br/>“Go clean up before someone gets hurt,” Louis orders. Harry’s attention hasn’t fully been on Louis for a second of that call, so they can just as well cut it short here. </p><p><br/>“I’m sorry, we can talk later if you’re up for it?” </p><p><br/>Louis’ eyes sway to the clock on the wall, striking 9 pm. “I think I’ll be asleep by the time they’re gone, but thanks.”</p><p><br/>Hesitating for a second, Harry sighs. “Alright. Sleep well then. Talk to you tomorrow.”</p><p><br/>“Yeah, you too.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>It all goes to shit when Harry spontaneously cancels on him, for that day at least.    </p><p><br/>“I can’t make it today, Lou, I’m so so sorry. Management and AB-PR want a meeting this afternoon and it sounds really urgent so there’s no way I’ll be able to get out of it.”</p><p><br/>Of course management and AB-PR would be the ones to cross Louis’ plans. Who else would it be?</p><p><br/>“What can be so important that it can’t wait a day or two?” </p><p><br/>“Dua Lipa’s doing a secret show tomorrow night and they want me as a surprise guest.”</p><p><br/>“And they couldn’t plan that any earlier than literally the day before the gig? What are those fuckers even getting paid for?” </p><p><br/>Louis’ currently on his way home from Tesco’s and while the pavement around him isn’t two crowded with only a pedestrian passing him every couple minutes, he sincerely hopes no one catches a part of their conversation. </p><p><br/>Harry sighs. “It’s a really good opportunity, Lou. I kind of get why they want to persue that.”</p><p><br/>“Well, I don’t,” Louis says bluntly. He’s so done with all the excuses and <em>sorrys</em> and <em>it’s a really good opportunity</em>. A boyfriend or any partner should be a priority in life, and he surely doesn’t feel like it. </p><p><br/>Taking a deep breath in and out, Harry considers what to say next. “As I said, I really am sorry. I’m aware it’s shitty of me to cancel on this short of notice. But I promise I’ll drive up tomorrow bright and early in the morning.”</p><p><br/>“But you said the show is tomorrow night, right? How long could you even stay? Till 3?”</p><p><br/>“Till 2, probably,” Harry admits in a small but steady voice. “Maybe 2.15 if I ask Zack to drive…”</p><p><br/>“2.15?” </p><p><br/>“…Yeah.”</p><p><br/>Facing the reality of seeing your boyfriend a total of maybe five hours when you expected to have a good two days with him is probably the biggest slap to face Louis can imagine right now. That’s so going against his plans. He’s not even angry more, he’s downright disappointed. Deeply disappointed. </p><p><br/>What he says next hurts just as much as realising that despite their attempt of better communication, nothing is going the way they had agreed on recently. </p><p><br/>“That’s not worth it.”</p><p><br/>“Excuse me?”</p><p><br/>Louis stops walking and just comes to a halt in the middle of the pavement, with cars speeding past him in regular intervals. “I said, it’s not worth it. We agreed on two days, Harry, two days, and I think I fucking deserve them. But something always comes up and something is always more important recently.”</p><p><br/>“Seeing me is not worth it?” Harry repeats dumbly. </p><p><br/>“That’s not… Five hours isn’t enough for a relationship to work, Harry. Especially not if I expected to have two fucking days with you. Our in real life face-to-face time has been a joke more than anything lately, and you know it.”</p><p><br/>Harry makes a noise like he wants to say something but doesn’t. Which only annoys Louis even more. </p><p><br/>“Don’t you have something to say to that?” he demands in a fairly unfriendly voice. But honestly, he’s done playing games and he’s done playing nice. Some conversations just need to be held, and sometimes staying quiet and letting each other cool down for a couple hours or days just isn’t enough. </p><p><br/>“I don’t know what to tell you. I know I’ve not been the most attentive boyfriend lately, but you have to understand that just because I have a couple weeks between tour legs, it doesn’t mean those are free weeks.”</p><p><br/>“When the fuck did I make you think that I think that?”</p><p><br/>“You didn’t, it’s just -” he starts but interrupts himself. “… it’s been a bloody few stressful weeks for me too, okay? Give me a <em>break.”</em></p><p><br/>It’s very poor wording on Harry’s side and they both realise it the second it leaves his mouth. Louis hisses while Harry just breathes into the phone, having processed his mistake. </p><p><br/>“You want a break?”</p><p><br/>“Louis that’s not what I -” Harry tries to defend himself, but Louis is quick to cut him off. </p><p><br/>“Is it not? Or do you just have to say that right now?”</p><p><br/>Harry’s voice is hard when he replies, and Louis’ never heard him this serious. “I’m not just saying that and I definitely don’t have to say that either. But if my own boyfriend doesn’t even trust me to value our relationship, then I think we’re on a whole other level of problem here.”</p><p><br/>Standing there, three streets away from his parents’ house, Louis closes his eyes and tells himself to breathe in and out before replying. He’s had fights with exes before, but they were usually in person and mostly about stupid things. This fight with Harry, on the other hand, feels way more… serious.</p><p><br/>“Harry, realistically, how is this going to work? You’re fucking off to Asia soon and you’re staying in Tokyo before and afterwards. How are we going to have a proper relationship when we can’t even make it work when we’re in the same fucking country?”</p><p><br/>Instead of following any of the accuses and the pitch black future Louis is painting for their joint future right now, Harry focuses on something else. </p><p><br/>“I told you you could come to Tokyo.”</p><p><br/>Louis huffs out a humourless laugh. How does Harry even have the nerve to suggest <em>that</em> right now?</p><p><br/>“I <em>can’t</em> though. I’ve got to find a flat and settle in before July because I’m starting my job then, <em>in case you forgot</em>.” He stops for a second, before adding, “My life will be here, in Yorkshire, and you’re all over the world.”</p><p><br/>Once again, instead of contributing something with content, Harry just comments, “Sheffield is South Yorkshire.” It almost seems like he’s running from the inevitable direction they’re heading in, like he’s distracting himself. </p><p><br/>“That’s not the point!”</p><p><br/>Harry sighs. Louis’ heard him sighing so often lately. He turns around on the pavement, like he’s searching for something, but it’s not like he’s really able to focus on his environment right now. Sure, he sees the cars pulling into the petrol station and he sees the people entering the building to pay and maybe grab a chocolate bar as well, but none of that matters right now. </p><p><br/>“So what’s your point? We’re breaking up because of your job? You’re kidding.”</p><p><br/>And there are the words Louis had feared for so long. <em>Breaking up</em>. Breaking up sounds bad, final and Louis doesn’t want it, doesn’t want to say the words out loud like Harry had just done. </p><p><br/>“Because of my job? I think we both know it’s not my job that’s the problem here.”</p><p><br/>Harry huffs. “Yeah, pushing all the guilt onto me is an easy solution for you. Making me the bad guy.”</p><p><br/>“I’m not making you the bad guy and I don’t want to break up with you either, but I’m not doing long-distance. That’s just not for me,” Louis explains, slipping into ranting mode. He just keeps talking, not caring the slightest that the middle aged man walking past him shoots him weird looks and that a teenage girl is watching him from the other side of the road. </p><p>“I missed you when we weren’t even together and I constantly feel like I’m holding you back. And I can’t stand in the long run,” Louis continues. “So do you have a better solution? Because agreeing on <em>communicating</em> more obviously didn’t work. You can communicate all you want, but you can’t call it a relationship then. At least not in my eyes.”</p><p><br/>The silence from Harry’s side of line is almost suffocating Louis. It must’ve been a couple seconds at most, but it feels way longer. In the movies, they’d put a long-drawn beep behind the scene, like they do after accidents or shit, to intensify the impression how <em>lost</em> the character feels. Louis can definitely relate. </p><p><br/>When Harry finally replies, there’s a resigned but final tone to his voice. </p><p><br/>“Just for the record, I think you’re making a mistake.”</p><p>Up to this point, Louis hasn’t been sure that their conversation would end with them as a broken up couple. But apparently, with Harry’s last words, it’s settled. Break up, break, whatever it is, they’re not officially together anymore as of now. Which must be the weirdest feeling Louis has felt in a long, long time. </p><p><br/>“I probably am,” Louis mumbles when he’s not even sure Harry is still on the line. So there he’s standing, still on the pavement, lowering his phone from his ear and just staring. He needs to process what’s just happened and when he finally arrives home a while later, he can’t even remember walking home because he was so lost in thought. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>Louis doesn’t tell his parents straight away. Or anyone besides Stan and Oli, really. Both of them react sympathetic and offer to distract Louis with a night out and some free drinks the next day, which he gladly follows. They deliberately choose a different pub than last time, when those teenagers spreaded unnecessary cheating rumours. </p><p><br/>“So how’re you feeling?”</p><p><br/>Louis shoots Oli a look that says<em> dude, look at me</em> and it’s enough to shut his friend up. Oli lifts his hands in defence and tends to the pint in front of him. </p><p><br/>“Obviously not amazing, got it. Want to talk about it or rather not?”</p><p><br/>Instead of verbally answering, Louis just shrugs. He appreciates that Oli leaves the decision for him to make, but he doesn’t know whether he wants to talk about his situation or not. </p><p><br/>“Have you guys told management already? Or AB-PR? Or is this a <em>we’re not telling anyone because we might be back together in a week anyways</em>?” Stan questions. </p><p><br/>Louis shrugs again and takes a sip of his pint. “I don’t know if Harry told them. Or anyone.” He watches the white head of foam slowly vanish as he suddenly has another thought and looks Stan straight in the eyes. “Please don’t tell Mr Richards or anyone though. I want it to come from Harry.”</p><p><br/>His friend nods firmly. “Of course, I didn’t even consider telling them. Don’t worry about that.”</p><p><br/>It’s quiet for a while after that, the three of them busy with their drinks and listening to the background music echoing through the pub. Thankfully, it’s relatively empty and so far, no one has spared them a second glance. </p><p><br/>“I wonder how Harry’s doing,” Louis states without looking up. God, what a pathetic sight he must be. </p><p><br/>“I’m sure he’s confused and upset as well,” Stan tries to comfort him. “Though I’ve got to admit, I’m not sure I can completely follow why you decided to call it quits.”</p><p>At that, Louis looks up with an incredulous expression. “What do you not understand? It obviously doesn’t work, the whole famous/non-famous relationship. Or at least not in Harry’s and my case.”</p><p>“Yeah, but why did it not work? Like, you guys fit so well and from what I’m gathering, it’s not the feelings that are the problem here.”</p><p><br/>Louis scoffs, eyes brows drawn together. How does Stan not get what’s going on? <em>He</em> was the one to warn him about this outcome! </p><p><br/>“Yeah, well, feelings aren’t enough.”</p><p><br/>“That’s true,” Oli chimes in. “I still loved Lydia when she moved to Swansea, but it didn’t work out because neither of us could handle the long-distance.”</p><p><br/>Now it’s Stan’s turn to shoot Oli a stern look, scolding him for supporting Louis’ hopelessness. “She moved away for uni after we graduated. That’s a totally different situation.”</p><p><br/>“At least she was still in the country. Harry’s going to be in bloody Asia in less than a week.”</p><p><br/>While Stan grimaces, Oli shakes his head matter-of-factly. “Swansea is in Wales, Lou.”</p><p><br/>“Still not helping,” Stan comments and motions for Oli to finally shut up. As an answer, Oli pulls a face and lifts his pint to chuck the remaining liquid in one go. </p><p><br/>“I mean it though, I don’t get it,” Stan starts again after a couple seconds. “You were unhappy before you were official and then you get him and for the time you have him you’re so happy. What’s stopping the two of you from making it a long happy time?”</p><p><br/>“Uh, life?” Louis replies as if the answer is blatantly obvious. “Look, I appreciate your concern but I don’t think you’ll fully understand the situation I’m in unless you experience it yourself. Which you won’t. So let’s just… not continue talking about it, yeah?”</p><p><br/>For a second, Oli keeps staring him straight in the eye before glancing downwards and nodding. “Alright. But I don’t believe this is the end of it.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>There are cheating rumours in the rags the next day, but when Oli sends the link to one of the online articles that afternoon, Louis doesn’t even care. It’s a ridiculous thought - Louis cheating on Harry. Louis cheating on Harry with Stan, especially. He does love Stan dearly, but it’s just another confirmation how laughable the boulevard press is and how desperately they’re trying to gain readership by claiming such false bullshit. </p><p><br/>The sun is saying that Louis always keeps crawling back to his secret romance whenever there’s trouble in paradise and that Oli is just a cover-up to make it less obvious. Creative assertation, that’s for sure, and they are kind of right about how Louis does end up running back to Stan and Oli and a pub in their vicinity whenever the topic Harry is giving him headaches - just not in that way. </p><p>It doesn’t matter though, because Louis <em>doesn’t</em> care. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>A couple days later, Harry is off to Asia. Ever since their … last phone call, there’s basically been no contact at all between them, and because Louis has been avoiding social media and every medium that might mention his ex-boyfriend like the plague, he’s got no idea what Harry’s been up to recently. He just notices the date of departure in his calender and can’t help but think of him. </p><p><br/><em>Stop it,</em> Louis shakes his head in the attempt of getting Harry out of his mind. <em>It won’t change anything. </em></p><p><br/>It’s just - Louis is suffering. He’s <em>miserable</em>. Way more miserable than the last weeks he spent being Harry’s boyfriend. Which is a dangerous, dangerous thought because there was a reason he ended it. He can’t develop false memories of him being more content with Harry by thinking about their happy times over and over again. That’d be the first step in the wrong direction. </p><p> </p><p><br/>One night, the night after Harry’s second show in Asia, Louis is a weak, weak man and caves in. He logs into his official Instagram account and searches the hashtags for videos of the past shows. The fans ensure a vast amount of updates, from all angles and ranging from a 2011 Nokia phone quality to a professional camera. </p><p><br/>Harry does his shows splendidly - he is a professional after all. If you know him well enough though, you notice something is off and Louis does know him well enough to notice. Which kind of hurts to realise. </p><p><br/>What also hits Louis in the face even more is that Harry has added a new cover and it’s a very heartbreak-y song of all the songs he could’ve chosen. Thanks for that. </p><p><br/>And if Louis occasionally (whenever possible) streams Harry’s concerts through some dodgey youtube links, no one needs to know. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Needless to say, neither Harry’s team nor AB-PR is happy with their personal struggles. Mr Price calls Louis five times before he finally picks up the sixth time and reluctantly agrees to just post old pictures from their account. How much they know, Louis doesn’t actually ask, but it must be enough to fall back to this very unsatisfactory strategy. </p><p><br/>When Louis doesn’t post something for the rest of the day, AB-PR takes matter into their own hands and it hurts even more when Louis clicks on his Instagram and sees his own profile filled with pictures of them. The responses are almost entirely positive, with loads of comments celebrating their relationship and wishing them all the best. It’s bitter sweet because Louis appreciates the support, despite it being no longer needed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The day the contract ends goes by without any word from Harry, just a notification from AB-PR reminding him. </p><p><br/>Louis is officially free after that, but he doesn’t feel like it at all. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Louis is on the train to Sheffield when two girls approach him carefully, uncertain whether they’re allowed to talk to them and whispering nervously when Louis looks up. He’s currrently on his way to sign the lease contract for the flat near the Diamond (fuck yeah) as the landlady notified him two days ago that he was indeed chosen. Maybe it’s a sign that life is about to get better, Louis hopes. </p><p><br/>“Uh… hi,” one of the girl starts after she’s almost pushed towards Louis by her friend, who she’s shooting a deadly glance. </p><p><br/>“Hi,” Louis replies easily, used to these kind of situations by now but not necessarily up for a talk. </p><p><br/>“I’m sorry we’re disturbing you like this, it must get horribly annoying to always be addressed like this,” she starts off. Well - yeah. Louis doesn’t say that though and just smiles tightly. </p><p><br/>“… we just wanted to ask if Harry is okay? We’re all very worried about him,” the other girl takes over and actually looks distraught. </p><p><br/>Louis swallows. What even is the best solution to get out of this? He has no clue. </p><p><br/>“Why wouldn’t Harry be okay?”</p><p><br/>The two girls glance at each other awkwardly. “Well… he cancelled the radio interview in Hong Kong. And he was seen stumbling out of a club yesterday -”</p><p><br/>“And he almost starting crying during Bruises in Singapore!”</p><p><br/>Louis doesn’t know that as he’s only seen half of the show in the Singapore, but the Lewis Capaldi song is emotional even when someone doesn’t have a personal background in that area. He can’t blame Harry for getting a bit teary eyed while performing it. </p><p><br/>“Didn’t you know?” one of the girl asks skeptically. </p><p><br/>“No… yes, no I did,” Louis stutters, trying to win some believable ground. With a smile, he tries to look as genuine as he can. “It’s all good though, don’t worry.”</p><p><br/>After a couple more minutes of uncomfortable small talk, mostly about Harry and their relationship, the girls finally leave and Louis releases the stressed breath he’s been holding. </p><p><br/>He hates this. The lying and the secrecy and the break-up. He hates not knowing that Harry isn’t handling this situation as well as Louis thought he would, or at least show outwardly. He also hates how similar he feels and how much he just wants to run back to Harry and turn back time to Vegas or LA or any other time and just hug Harry until both of them feel better. </p><p><br/>None of that happens, of course. Harry doesn’t even message him. Louis does get a message with a certain undertone by AB-PR though, strongly reminding him of the NDAs he signed with a reference to headlines along the line of <em>Powercouple broken up? Louis Tomlinson clueless about popstar boyfriend’s life!</em></p><p><br/>He assures them that yes, he is indeed aware of the NDAs he signed and that he didn’t mean to cause any uproar and that he’s sure it’s fine. It won’t be long until they’ll finalise a strategy to officially break them up anyway. <em>Who knows, maybe they’ll make a cheeky little call to that model’s management,</em> Louis thinks bitterly. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He fully moves into his flat in Sheffield on a Thursday. It’s the Thursday before his first work day on Monday and he gets nervous whenever the thinks about it because it is the start of a new chapter, but the predominant thoughts are about Harry. </p><p><br/>Louis may have cried the whole night prior though he cuts himself some slack because he wanted Harry to be here with him when he finally moves from Doncaster to Sheffield. This is so not how he wanted things to go. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’s a depressing first night at the new flat and it’s even more unlucky that neither Oli nor Stan are available to make Louis feel any better about it. </p><p><br/>When he finally drags himself out of bed around 11am, the sun is high up on the sky and it looks like a promising summer day that he won’t be making use of as much as he should. There’s still some furniture moving and unpacking Louis has to do and then also grocery shopping so he doesn’t need to worry about that during the exciting first days of his job. </p><p><br/>Just as he grabs his keys from the bowl he intends on keeping them in but knows he won’t, especially not when he’s out partying with the boys and returns after countless of alcoholic beverages, his bell rings. Mildly startled because the noise is still unfamiliar, Louis walks to his door and contemplates buzzing the visitor in but decides against it. No one except his family and Oli and Stan should know about his new location, so he’ll just go downstairs to check it’s no axe murderer or anything. </p><p><br/>What he doesn’t expect though, is almost bumping into a solid chest as soon as he opens the door. </p><p><br/>“Ugh,” he makes and takes a step back. </p><p><br/>“Hi. Sorry, your neighbour let me in.”</p><p><br/>Louis’ eyes must be bulging out of his head, but it’s understandable because <strong>why the fuck is Harry here?</strong></p><p><br/>Instead of replying, Louis stares with his mouth open, facial expression very unintelligent but he can’t be bothered right now. Harry is supposed to be in bloody Tokyo right this second, having finished his last concert just yesterday night. Or whatever time it was in Japan, Louis can’t do the math.</p><p><br/>“Can we talk?” Harry starts, fiddling with the edge of his relatively lose shirt. To be fair, he does look distracting, rocking the colourful trousers and his chocolate curls framing his face. </p><p><br/>“How are you here?” He knows it’s not answering Harry’s question but it’s the only thing he can think of right now. </p><p><br/>“I flew over as soon as I could. I would’ve arrived earlier but the traffic was insane for some reason,” Harry explains as if his sudden entrance is not surprising but very logical. Taking a look around, Harry shifts from one foot to the other. “Can I maybe come in? … If you’re okay with that of course. I’d really like to talk to you, but I’d prefer not to do that in the hallway.”</p><p><br/>Still barely processing the change of situation, Louis starts nodding absentmindedly. “Yeah… yeah, come in,” he says and retreats back to the door, opening it enough to invite Harry in. Harry, his ex slash taking a break slash whatever boyfriend that’s supposed to be on the other side of the world right now. </p><p><br/>Louis leads them to the kitchen and they sit down across from each other. It feels like a little success that Louis went from living with his parents to owning a kitchen table with four matching chairs in the mean time, but a flat tour is obviously the least important thing right now. </p><p><br/>“Looks nice,” Harry comments as Louis gets them a glass of water each. </p><p><br/>“Thanks,” he mumbles and sits down himself. While there are indeed many, many things that Louis would love to say and ask, he doesn’t start. No, at first it’s Harry’s turn to try and explain. </p><p><br/>“So…” Harry starts but trails off. “I wanted to talk to you.”</p><p><br/>“Yeah… now’s your opportunity then, I guess.”</p><p><br/>Harry swallows and takes a deep breath in that’s most likely meant to be calming but by the look of it, doesn’t do much for his nerves. It does calm Louis’ nerves a bit though, realising that he’s not the only one finding this mildly awkward but mainly very tense. </p><p><br/>“I’m sorry for how things… ended. Or didn’t end,” Harry corrects hastily. “I know I wasn’t a very good boyfriend lately, I think we both know that, but the past couple days made me realise that this is not an outcome I can live with. At least not without knowing I tried to… well, try it again. Which is totally your decision as well!”</p><p><br/>Nodding along tighly, Louis barely takes his eyes off Harry’s face. </p><p><br/>“So what do you want?”</p><p><br/>“Well, as I said… I think we should - try it again? I know I fucked up more than one time, and I know we said we’d communicate more and I basically did the exact opposite… But I just want you back, to be frank.”</p><p><br/>Now that’s not how Louis thought his day would go when he got up this morning. Harry’s words do make his heart jump though, if the fact that Harry spontaneously flew back to England just to talk to him didn't already. It’s not like Louis has blocked him on social media or anywhere, he could’ve just texted or maybe called, but he didn’t. It’s a very Harry thing to do, Louis thinks. </p><p><br/>Nonetheless, it’s a lot to process and now it’s Louis turn to swallow in order to gain some time before inevatibly having to reply. </p><p><br/>“Okay. I appreciate the effort and I’m taking notice of what you’re saying,” Louis says and sees Harry’s face fall at the wording. As unfazed as he can manage, he continues. “I have to say, it’s very tempting, but there’s still the reasonable voice in the back of my mind trying to hold me back. Because who promises me we won't be back right at this point in just a month?”</p><p><br/>“And I can understand that! But I’ll try to make more time for you. The distance and the past couple days helped me realised how unfair the whole situation was to you and I’m very sorry for that. I know it’s too late to make that right, but I want to make it right in the future. If you’ll let me.”</p><p><br/>Harry sounds genuine and serious and Louis wants to jump in his arms despite all the alarm bells going on in his head. But apologising face to face is a good sign of maturity, right?</p><p><br/>“I don’t know how that’s going to work though,” Louis voices his doubts. “Like, we tried and said we’d communicate more, but that doesn’t mean we’ll make it work with our schedules. I’m starting work here on Monday, Harry.”</p><p><br/>Sitting up with a straighter posture, Harry nods. “I know. But I also know that the two of us can make it work. We wouldn’t be the first couple to do it!” he exclaims energetically. “Actually, I googled it. Adele’s husband isn’t famous, Amal Clooney wasn’t famous either. Patrick Dempsey married a hair stylist… though I’m not sure that counts because she was a celebrity hair stylist… Prince William and Kate!”</p><p><br/>At that, Louis can’t help but chuckle. “Are you comparing us to the royal family right now?”</p><p><br/>“Maybe I am,” Harry grins, glad that the ice is broken a bit. “My point got across though, didn’t it?”</p><p><br/>“Yeah, it did.” Louis turns his head to the left, facing the kitchen window. It’s a tricky situation because he wants Harry back, without question. He would never admit it out loud, but he’s maybe even a tad glad that Harry felt just as miserable without him and now has made the first step of trying to win him back. </p><p><br/>On the other hand though, he’s also aware of how fast a relationship like theirs could turn toxic if they continued to head down that unhealthy and frustrating road they were going just a couple weeks ago. </p><p><br/>“Okay,” Louis nods finally after contemplating his decision as thoroughly as he can right now. “Let’s try again. But I want actions, not empty words. I want you to take this seriously, because I can’t go through this again. Seeing you prioritise basically everything but me made me feel worthless and I don’t need any more of that.”</p><p><br/>A smile starts spreading across Harry’s face faster than Louis’ ever seen but he still tries to maintain a serious and understanding facade, nodding along eagerly and agreeing with every word. “Definitely. I promise you, I’ll make it worth it.”</p><p><br/>Instead of answering verbally, Louis simply smiles back, enjoying Harry’s reaction and also his own flood of positive thoughts. Maybe this is a shit decision and maybe his family will kick his arse for taking Harry back, but who knows, maybe it isn’t. Louis believes in Harry. </p><p><br/>“Can I hug you?” </p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” Louis laughs and gestures for Harry to come over, who’s already out of his seat before Louis can finish the sentence. It’s arguably their best hug ever, the most relieving one for sure. For a moment, it feels like all the tension of the last weeks vanishes as strong tattooed arms embrace him. </p><p><br/>“How did you even know where I live now?” Louis mumbles into Harry’s collar bone when he’s still not being let go half a minute later.</p><p><br/>“Called Stan. He was surprisingly more willing to help than I expected.”</p><p><br/>“Of course,” Louis chuckles. “That bugger was our first fan.” </p><p><br/>Louis would have to thank his friend for his matchmaking skills and his intuition when to helpfully intervene and when to just listen to his complaints later. In the end, he’s the reason they’re standing here right now.</p><p><br/>There is still so, so much they need to talk about. How Harry and Louis are going to make it work in the future, make it work <strong>better</strong> than it did the first time around. How they’re going to make time for each other, now that they’re both working with very different schedules. How they’re going to communicate and prioritise and plan. Also, how they’re going to tell Harry’s management and AB-PR and everyone else, but that’s a thought for tomorrow. </p><p><br/>“You know what I’m glad about?” Harry suddenly breaks the short silence and releases him a bit but not fully, just enough to look him in the eyes. They’re sparkling mischievously like they always do whenever he’s excited and happy and Louis loves it.</p><p><br/>“Huh?” </p><p><br/>“I’m glad Stan lost the bet back then.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi everyone!<br/>Can you believe, I finally finished not only the next chapter but also the story! :D<br/>I have at least a dozen more fic ideas that I want to pursue, and I always intended for My friend lost a bet to end with them being at the beginning of working things out, so I hope you liked it. </p><p>For anyone interested, I actually did change the ending quite a lot a good day after posting this chapter because I wasn't fully content with the way Louis came across. I feel like it fits both characters better now though.</p><p>Enjoy reading! :)</p><p>(Also sorry for any typos, I'll read through the story and fix them when I find the time for it)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you liked it, maybe leave some feedback if you're up for it! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>